The Noble War
by TheDevotchka
Summary: Tate's been dead longer than she's been alive and she wants him though he's rotten to the core. She's just a kid, but she hates everything and she's drawn to the darkness in her dead boy like a moth to a flame. The difference? She likes the burn, too.
1. Queen Dreams

Filthy Goddamn Horror Show

I just wanted them to be quiet. I'm not just talking about the voices in my head, either. Larry, the fucking pig; left his wife and kids to burn alive whilst he panted after my mother, Constance. I'll never be her perfect son, and if she hadn't seen it before, it's all too clear in the blood smeared across my sheets and the little neon target spots dancing over my splattered face, even now. I lived for her. For as long as I can remember, I lived for her, because I didn't have a family and she saved me. When you die in this house, you come back, but it's not like you know what's happened. I know I died, and I know the cops killed me. But I don't remember it happening, and I don't remember why they did it. Constance wouldn't tell me, that fucking bitch isn't useful for anything. She was a useless mother to me, and she's a useless mother to my sister, Addie, now. I wish I could go back and help her, but I just don't want to leave this house. Or I can't, whatever, it's not like I have anywhere to go. And do you want to know what the worst part of it all is? The voices just got louder, after it happened. Only I couldn't ignore them so much anymore, because they were equal now. There's no point in a ghost, or whatever I am, pretending he doesn't believe in supernatural forces, right?

You'd think that the worst part is the loneliness, but it's not. I don't mind being alone. I was alone most of my life before and that wasn't so bad. I like to be quiet, and I like to read, which is why I just can't handle the voices anymore. I give into them now, because they quiet down when I do. They make me do bad things, I think. I don't do the bad things for me, I do them for her. I don't like living people so much, they're too much, just too much. But it's been a year or so since we had any, give or take a few months. After seventeen years of today you forget when it is, or at least that's what I find.

Muffled voices from outside the house brought me out of my mind, and I thought I could pick out the slightly sharp tone of Marcy, the fucking realtor assigned to this house. She may look like a nice, sensible woman looking to give people a good deal on a huge house, but she's a monster as much as I am, I tell you now. She smiled at the couple, the queers from before, and told them this was the perfect house for them. Nothing out of the ordinary here, boys, it's perfect for you. Oh, the price? Well, it's a little on the low side, but only because I want it to go to a budding young family that can breathe some life into it again, you'll make wonderful parents. I sneered from the top of the stairs, already knowing those queens were never going to walk out of the house again. You could tell by the way they looked around, perverted, greedy leers on their faces as they eyed the 'real tiffany light fixtures' and the 'original wall murals'. They were here to stay. That is, if I allowed them to. I kept an eye on them as they walked around the house. Marcy was the master of bullshit, I'll give her that. She put a bright, plastic spin on everything shitty about this house, and the queens were eating it up. I hated them already.

"So, what do you think, gentlemen? Is this the house of your dreams?" She plastered a worn-out smile on her features and waited, apprehensively, for their answer. In the pause that followed I would have held my breath, if I had need of it, hoping they both would and would not take it.

"I can't see how this wouldn't be someone's dream house," the dark haired man drawled.

"We'll take it," the blonde added, sparing little more than a glance for the man by his side. Guess we know who wears the trousers in that relationship then. I thought Marcy was about to explode with how exuberant she was, so desperate to get rid of this house once and for all. Though, of course, we both knew that wasn't going to be the case. These two wouldn't last here, not with everyone still so mad all the time. They'd just join the masses, and adapt, like me.

"Excellent, well, I'll leave you two to get acquainted with your new house, and I'll be back with the paperwork in a couple of hours. You should be able to be fully moved in by the end of the week," she beamed, before turning on her heel and click, click, clicking down the hall and out the front door. As soon as the door had closed, the brunette turned to his partner and smiled.

"It's perfect, Pat, isn't it?" He touched his forearm, manicured fingertips brushing against his bare flesh.

"Sure. We'll be piled under a mountain of debt thirty stories high, but it's perfect."

"And our baby, our babies! They'll grow up here, there's so much space! Such a huge lawn, did you see it? You can teach them to ride their bikes out front, I can bake, I mean look at this kitchen! Sure it could do with some refurb but when it's finished? Patrick, it's going to be beautiful!" The shorter man gushed. I grit my teeth, willing myself not to punch him in the face. I fucking hated his type. They had to buy this house now though, that much was clear to me. They wanted to raise a family, and she wanted a baby. I'd promised her I'd get one, and this was the solution. I couldn't go out and get her a baby, so the baby would come to the house, and to a mother that could really love it.

"You're cute when you're imagining things," 'Patrick' said, wrapping an arm around the other's shoulders.

"Not just things, Pat. Our lives. Our life, together. Forever, in this house." He didn't know how right he was.

"Ever the optimist, Chad my dear," the blonde smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to 'Chad's' temple before moving away.

"Shall we take a little tour of our own?" Chad suggested, raising one heavy dark brow.

"Marcy already showed us everything," Patrick trailed slowly, frowning at his lover.

"Yes, but there's one room I don't think we got a proper look at," Chad continued, still raising that one stupid eyebrow.

"Oh, oh I agree. The master bedroom could certainly do with a more… thorough investigation," Patrick agreed, grinning and holding his hand out. Chad took it, and they raced up the staircase together, narrowly missing me as a stood against the railing.

"God, they're going to be hard to tolerate," I muttered under my breath, before descending the stairs and rounding the hall towards the basement. I pushed the door open with my finger tips and followed the sound of the hollow sobs to find her. She was perched on the edge of a large wooden box, crying into a yellowing handkerchief.

"Life's too short for so much sorrow," I said quietly, and she looked up at me.

"You're wrong, it's an eternity," she managed, before breaking into tears again.

"Dry your eyes, Nora, I think I've found your baby." I smiled at her, desperate to see her smile back and kiss my hair again, just once.

"You… where is my baby? I just want my baby," she wailed, turning her head away from me. I took a few steps closer and placed my fingertip and thumb on her delicate chin, lifting her eyes to look at me.

"Nora… it's me, Tate. Remember? I wished you were my mother, and I promised I'd find your baby. The people moving into the house are getting a baby, and it's yours, if you want me to get it for you." Her eyes brightened and she smiled at me, radiant and maternal in a way that made my heart ache.

"Tate… such a good boy. My Thaddeus hasn't been giving you too much trouble, has he?" She fretted, worrying the handkerchief between her fingers. I let go of her face and shook my head. I just tell him to go away, like you told me to. He tried to hurt my sister, not me again. I told him to go away, Nora, like you told me." She nodded and stilled her hands in her lap. She didn't touch me, but she'd stopped crying. I got her to stop crying.

"Good, that's my good boy. You're a good boy, Tate, to find me my baby." I nodded, smiling back at her.

"You deserve to have one, Nora; you'll make a wonderful mother."

"I did," she nodded, and I saw her lower lip quiver with unshed tears. "My Thaddeus," she trailed, before turning away from me. "Don't mind me, dear, but I need to rest, my baby… I need my baby." I grit my teeth and set my jaw, straightening and turning to go.

"I won't fail you, Nora. You won't see me again until I can give you a baby," I promised, before leaving to check on the new residents again. Judging by the quiet, they'd finished up whatever they had been doing, and for that I was glad. I don't think I could control myself if they'd been doing that in front of me.

"Why do you never want to stay with me, after we fuck, anymore Patrick," Chad said, matter-of-factly. I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly, this side of the door. His tone had been too neutral for such a provocative, accusatory statement.

"I've never been the cuddling kind of queer, Chad, you know that," he retorted. The whole situation was so curious; I decided to brave the room itself. I'd never really been in the master bedroom of the house, even when I lived here. It just reminded me that my dad left because of the maid, and that my mother was a drunk who ended up here with young men every weekend, sometimes younger than me. I'd never felt the need to go in there, it was a place of lies and open violations of the marital vowels my parents had sworn upon before they'd had me and my siblings. It seemed fitting that now it was soiled by these two. Very fitting indeed. Chad was sitting, propped up against the pillows on the master bed that looked like it was going to fall apart any second. Patrick was sitting in a chair by the window, hunched over a laptop. To my relief, he was wearing underwear, though I couldn't be sure Chad was and so therefore I prayed he wouldn't get up anytime soon.

"Don't give me that shit; when we first got together, you were always the cuddling type. Don't make it sound so… so…" Chad trailed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish drowning in open air. I wanted to cut him with a butcher's knife.

"So what? Queer? I've got news for you Chad; you're as fucking camp as they come. And I'm just starting to get sick of it!" Patrick muttered, his eyes never leaving the computer screen. I strained up on the tips of my toes, trying to get a look at what was so interesting on his computer, but he shut the screen just as I got into position, as if he knew. Maybe he was just over-paranoid and doing something that he shouldn't have been. Either way it piqued my interest… maybe these people would be interesting for a while.


	2. Test the Water

The Harmon's were going to be different. That's what she told me, the cocksucker.

"I know those… perversions of nature were unkind to you Tate, but these people, are different. Mr Harmon is a doctor, you know. A therapist. He can help you… with your problems, wouldn't that be nice?" Constance drawled, looking at me like a spastic puppy begging for approval. She genuinely thought I knew nothing about anything, that I was her perfect little son. She couldn't have been more wrong. I didn't need a therapist.

Chad and Patrick, the obscene homosexuals who now resided in the kitchen when they felt like it, and the garden when they'd had a fight, had been horribly murdered a few years ago. It was tragic really. To anyone outside, they had been the most adorable couple, moving into a big, suburban house to start a family and adopt some children. To the house, they had been a fractured piece of a once pleasant relationship.

"Hi, I'm Tate. I live next door, and I just thought I'd come over and welcome you to the neighbourhood." I flashed him my most charming smile, innocent with a touch of a smirk behind the curl of my lips.

"Thanks very much, Tate. I'm Patrick. Would you," he eyed me up and down, "like to come in for a coffee? Chad baked cookies, but he's gone to the mall, won't be home for hours," he trailed and I smiled wider to hide my disappointment. These queens weren't going to be my solution after all. Patrick wasn't in love with his boyfriend, and I doubted they would have a child now. But I figured I should check, just in case.

"I'd love to, thanks," I followed him into the house and into the kitchen; looking around as though it was my first time in the house.

"Sorry about the mess, we're doing a lot of refurbishment on the house. Pretty much the whole internal design needed restoring," he explained over his shoulder as he busied himself with setting cookies on a plate and pouring the coffee.

"I think it looks great." I commented. He turned around and set the mug on the table in front of me.

"Sugar? Milk?" He asked and I smirked.

"A whole bunch of sugar, please, I got a…" I paused, leaning a little closer to Patrick, without invading his personal space. "Sweet tooth," I finished, making sure my voice sounded as husky as possible. He audibly swallowed, reaching one hand shakily to knot his fingers in my hair.

"Is that so? Well I've got something… sweet… for you," he strained. I brushed my fingers against his hip through his tight black t-shirt, and his eyes fluttered closed.

"I really am glad you're my new neighbour," I muttered, brushing my hand over his crotch. His eyes shot open and I grinned wider. "But, don't you love your boyfriend, Chad, was it?" I asked, making it seem as though I was concerned for him. "I don't want to be a home wrecker or something," I added a nervous little chuckle at the end of my question.

"To be honest with you Tate, not anymore. Not when there are hot little things like you flaunting about right in front of my face," his breath hit my face. I smiled, before slipping off my stool. I didn't want him to see my disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Patrick. I got to go, my mom will be worried. I'll see you soon though, real soon," I promised, running to the front door as he stood, bewildered in the kitchen. I guess things weren't going to work out after all.

"Why do you think you get to talk to me? Because you're setting me up to 'see' a therapist? You think that makes you a caring mother? You can't love anything but yourself, Constance, and to be honest you're really starting to piss me off." I glared vehemently at her, and she cowered a little under my withering stare.

"Your eyes get so dark when you're angry, Tate. My perfect boy," she trailed, extending one frail hand towards me as though she meant to touch my face or my hair, like she did when I was a child. I stepped back, my mind already in the basement, with Nora, where I would tell her that I would not fail her again. The gay couple were unfortunate, but I would not fail again.

"I have to go." I said, turning and clattering down the steps out of the attic. As I left, I heard the familiar wail of my brother, Beauregard, as he greeted my mother. He had no idea what kind of a worthless cocksucker she really was, but it's expected. He's too young to understand.

"I really think we can make a new start here, Vivien. But you have to meet me half way," a male voice echoed up from the kitchen. Must be the Harmon's my 'mother' was talking about. I was curious, so I crept down the stairs to take a look at the new residents. I could hear footsteps at the end of the hall, but the voice had clearly come from the kitchen. A man and a woman were standing at opposite sides of the kitchen counter, tension rolled off the pair as they looked at each other with unreadable expressions. Nothing was being said, so after a few moments looking at my future 'therapist' I decided to go and investigate the other footsteps I'd heard earlier.

The first thing I noticed was that the basement door was ajar. I'd made sure it had been locked up after the last residents 'accident'. No one knew where I'd hidden the key. I padded down the darkened steps to the basement floor and looked around. Across the room, facing the little box window against the back wall, stood a little, hunched-over figure in a patchwork cardigan. She was thin, with purple leggings and long, dead-straight dirt-blonde hair. She shouldn't be in here. No one should be down here. I thought about announcing myself to her, but I didn't have a back story planned out and I didn't want to screw up before I got to start my therapy sessions with Mr Harmon. I could feel his presence down here, though he wasn't the only one watching her. Everyone was interested in the new residents, especially this one. We hadn't had someone so young, so alive here before.

"Hello?" She called out, and I held my breath even though she couldn't see me. She must have had an affinity for the supernatural, because it was like she knew we were all here. Most people were far too dense to notice the other worldly beings all around them. She exuded a quiet confidence that had me spell bound. As she turned around, my jaw fell slack. She was beautiful, unusual, and very, very fragile. I wanted to protect her from this house. I wanted to scare her into leaving forever, but I couldn't pass up another chance to give Nora the baby she so desperately wanted, and Mrs Harmon was the perfect candidate. It was clear from the little I had observed that she was desperate for another baby. I needed to be sure I'd get one, and she was the best chance we'd had so far. No matter vulnerable and wonderful the girl before me was, I had to keep my promise to Nora. I'd just keep them out of the basement, and everything would be okay.

"This house is some freaky shit," she commented, and I wondered at the almost reverent tone she used. She was impressed by the house, and I was impressed by her. I followed her out of the basement, no more than two paces behind her until she was in the kitchen with her parents, and I could be sure she was somewhat safe.

"Violet, honey where have you been?" 'Vivien, her mother asked. She wrinkled her nose.

"The basement. It's freaky down there. But I like this house, mom." Both parents smiled as they glanced at each other. Oh yeah, they may have been fighting before, but they were certainly still in love enough to give Nora a baby, whether my help was necessary or not.

"We're glad, Vi. Have you picked your room yet?" Mr Harmon asked.

"Nah, I'll go check it now," she replied, turning with the cool air of a teenager who knows everything. She was exactly the kind of girl I would have liked in high school, though would have never had the guts to talk to for fear of being shot down by her sharp tongue.

"Not the master bedroom!" Her mother called, laughing. From my perspective I saw her roll her eyes and smirked to myself as I followed her up the stairs to the first floor. She paused at each doorway, peering in room by room. She stepped across the threshold to my old room and paused, before stepping in. This was new; she had simply passed by each previous room. She walked around my room, looking at everything, before perching on the edge of the bed I'd lost my life on. She smiled and nodded to herself, before rapidly exiting and clumping down the stairs and back to the kitchen.

"I picked my room," she stated, before turning on her heel and slamming up the stairs again, narrowly missing me. I smelt her as she passed; cigarette smoke and a musky shampoo I couldn't name. As I'd expected, she was back in my room, lying on the bed. I tried not to focus on the way her scruffy skirt had bunched up on her thighs, or the slight raised curvature of her breasts straining against her sweater. It had been so long.


	3. Puppy Love

The bell clanked above my head, shaking me out of my daydream. I felt myself jolt upright in my seat, and I hadn't realised until now how close I had been to dosing off. A girl giggled from somewhere behind me, and I turned around, brushing my hair from my eyes like early morning sleep. Green eyes, behind a mop of sleek, black hair looked back at me for a moment, before her glance hit the floor. I smiled wider, and turned my chair around to face her. She looked up again, realising I had focused my attention on her.

"Sorry… I just thought you looked so cute all sleepy," she blushed and I wrinkled my nose.

"Yeah? Cute isn't really the look I was going for. I was kinda hoping for rugged handsomeness. Am I anywhere near to pulling that off?" I was definitely turning the full force of my charm on her, but she was the first girl to pay attention to me in, well, ever, so I won't apologise for not wanting to let this one go.

"Oh yes," she giggled, "you're real close to handsomeness, I'm not so sure about rugged though, with that hair," she trailed, and now it was my turn to blush.

"Well, you know what they say, blondes have more fun! I'm Tate, by the way," I added.

"I know," she smirked. "I'm Grace." The name suited her, with the way she blushed and the silent confidence she exuded. Her eyes were magnetic, and I wondered how I'd never noticed her before.

"So, Grace, how is it that I've never noticed your pretty face around here before?"

"I just transferred," she began, and I nodded, knowingly. I knew there was no way I could have just not noticed her. "I'm from New York. I've only been here two weeks, but it's pretty okay." She finished and I smiled, dryly.

"I have to disagree with you; unfortunately, I kind of hate this place. But the room's a little brighter with you in it. Can I walk you to lunch? Or to your next class?" I know I was coming off as clingy already, but you don't know how hard it is to be isolated all the time. Even if she doesn't find me attractive and is just being nice, I have to try. I need a friend, at least, or I think I'll go crazy.

"Sure, I don't have a lunch period yet, but you can walk me to Phys Ed if you like?" She phrased it like a question, even though I'd been the one to ask her.

"Awesome." I got up and she followed suit, packing her stuff into her bag. I didn't have much to carry, just a library book and my bag, so I helped her carry her folders. As we walked down the hall, people noticed, but she didn't bat an eyelid. I think people must look at her a lot, she was beautiful after all. No one ever looks at me, so it made me uncomfortable, their scrutiny. I wanted to just run away from their gazes and whispers, no doubt wondering why a girl like her was walking, by choice, with a guy like me. Too soon yet not soon enough, we arrived at the gym and I had to give her back her stuff and say goodbye.

"Thanks, Tate. Hey, do you want to go see a movie or something? At the weekend? It would be nice to get to know you better; I'm not exactly popular around here." I thought that was a lie, but I nodded anyway; grateful for her kindness as she tried to make me believe she was on my level, and not miles above it.

"That would be cool. Can I have your number? So I can text you later when I look at what's on at the theatre?" I was sounding too hopeful; it would definitely put her off.

"Sure," she slipped a pen out of her pocket and jotted down her landline address on my palm. My skin broke out in goose bumps where her flesh connected with mine, but my sweater hid it from her, thankfully. "I'll see you later, Tate." She finished, and I waved, grinning like an idiot and unable to form a reply, until she had turned her back and exited into the changing rooms.

The date, as I'd begun to refer to it just to make myself feel even sicker, went really well. I'd picked her up at seven, and avoided the awkward meeting with one or both of her parents, after which they would probably forbid her from seeing me again. She deserved better than what I could give her, but for as long as she'd let me, I'd try. She was sitting beside me, eating her ice-cream. She shivered, it was September and the breeze was a little biting, especially for her in her silky black dress and thin-looking tights. The way she'd dressed made me sure it was a date, though I wanted to punch myself for wearing casual clothing when she'd dressed up beautiful. I put my arm around her, slowly, and waited for her to punch me and run away screaming. Instead she sighed and leaned into me, pressing her bare arm against my sweater.

"Thanks, Tate. Tonight's been wonderful," she said. It didn't seem like a closed sentence. I didn't know what to do with this, and I felt my palms become clammy. I didn't know what she wanted to hear.

"Yeah, you're… the most beautiful girl in the world," I tried, and she scoffed.

"You're cute, Tate. Have you done anything like this before?" she pulled away from me and raised one eyebrow, knowingly.

"No, no I have not," I admitted, and she grinned.

"That's okay. You know we're on a date, right?" I rolled my eyes and squeezed her shoulders.

"I'd hoped so, yes." I grinned and she giggled.

"And you know that I like, you, a lot. You're a great guy." That was a closed statement, and I figured now was the right time to ask her to make this official.

"I like you too, a lot, a lot a lot. Would you… be my girlfriend? Just tell me if I'm being weird or if it's too soon to ask that or whatever because ire ally don't know.

"Usually, it would be too soon. But, we like each other, and we have fun, and I don't see the point in waiting just for convention's sake. Yes, Tate, I'll be your girlfriend. But, you haven't even kissed me yet," she trailed, pulling away enough to look me in the eyes. I smiled, softly, and felt my heart rate pick up in anticipation of my first kiss, at seventeen. Yes, I know. I lifted my hand and tried to ignore the way my fingers shook as I slipped them into her hair and inclined my head opposite to hers. I leaned in, and thankfully, she met me half way. Our lips came together, her soft, plump ones on mine. I didn't know what to do, so she took control, moving my lips with her own before running her tongue along my bottom lip. I sort of knew what to do as I opened up my mouth, allowing her tongue to slip into my mouth and massage my own, silky smooth and very, very gentle. I don't know exactly how long it lasted, but I was breathless when we pulled apart, and so was she.

"Wow," I breathed; my mouth still close to hers. I relished the feeling of her breath against my mouth, still sensitive and alive with nerve endings from the stimulation of the kiss.

"Wow," she echoed, smiling before resting her head against my neck. I grinned, proud of myself, as I slung an arm around her shoulder more confidently and pulled her close to me.

"Did I do okay?" I asked, tentatively.

"You did amazingly, Tate. You're amazing." She sighed and I laughed, gently. She stood and took my hand in hers and we walked back towards reality. When we reached her front door she pulled me into a hug and I tried to savour the smell of her neck against my face without her realising I was breathing her jugular.

"I'll see you tomorrow, at school?" I asked, looking at her with a hopeful smile.

"Naturally. Bye Tate. Thanks again for this evening." She kissed my lips softly and I stood on her porch until she'd shut the door and the light had gone off I thought I could walk away without falling over. I know I had a stupid, smacked up smile on my face the whole way home, but I couldn't help it. Even seeing my cocksucker of a mother and her shit-eating boyfriend couldn't ruin it for me.

"Hey, hot stuff," she chirped, lacing her fingers with mine as I sloped up the hallway, invisible to the masses. I straightened my back up, smiling and squeezing her fingers in mine.

"Hey. What're you doing tonight? Want to see a movie or something?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too eager.

"Urm…" she trailed, and my heart dropped into my stomach. "I'm kind of going to a party tonight," she hedged and I nodded. She hadn't invited me, and I wasn't going to ask. "I'd invite you, but I don't know if it's your kind of thing," she added quickly and I turned, glancing at her.

"If you're there, it's my kind of thing," I said, trying to inject some nonchalance into my voice so I didn't sound 100% pathetic.

"Well… Tate, it's kind of not so much a party but a gathering… of like-minded individuals, socialising, you know," she continued, and I thought I was catching on to the language a bit.

"You mean drugs?" I asked, not bothered about sugar coating it.

"Yeah, I mean drugs. It's totally cool if you're not down with that, though," she rushed and I smiled.

"I can be down with it if you are, seriously," I smirked, leaning in to kiss her cheek, trailing my lips down her jaw. She brushed her fingers along my collarbone gently, before pushing me off her.

"I'll see you tonight, Tate. Here's the address to the party, meet me there at eight, okay?" She asked, pressing a scrap of folded paper into my palm. I nodded, feeling the unnecessary sting of rejection when she'd pushed me away.

"See you," I mumbled softly after her, but she was already too far down the hall to hear me. I sighed, glancing at the clock before deciding to ditch the rest of my classes anyway.

The party was in full swing by the time I got there, I could hear the thump of music and see shadows moving behind the yellowed curtains. I swallowed hard, hoping to dissolve the lump of nervousness lodged in my throat. Wiping my sweating palms on the front of my jeans, I knocked on the door. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and a bleary eyed college student with scruffy, dark hair looked me up and down.

"Who invited the jailbait?" He called over his shoulder, giggling to himself as he turned back around to face me.

"Hi, I- I'm Tate," I checked myself, determined to sound hard, like I did this every day. "I'm Grace's boyfriend," I added.

"Oh… Grace, really? Boyfriend? Listen buddy, you really don't want to come in here. Not if you love your girlfriend. Do you love your girlfriend, Tate?" I didn't like the way he said my name, like it was a mockery.

"Yeah, I guess I'm starting to." I smiled despite myself, thinking about how fools rush in and I was a fool for falling in love so fast, but I couldn't help it. She was perfect. "She's perfect," I grinned, glancing back to the guy in front of me.

"Yeah… look dude. She's upstairs, but I don't think you want to see her right now. I mean, you seem like a straight up guy so I don't think you want to see her right now." He finished and went to close the door. I stuck my foot out, starting to worry about Grace.

"No, it's okay, she asked me to meet her here at eight. So, here I am. Meeting her. Here." I finished lamer than I'd started.

"Okay, fine dude, don't say I didn't warn you," he moved aside, and I stepped into the house. My eyes were assaulted by the smoke in the room; it hung in dense curtains everywhere. I paced through the house, glancing at the strung out teens draped over every surface, and stepping cautiously over the people curled up on the floor. A guy in the kitchen was rooting through the fridge, but he was the only conscious person I'd encountered so I asked him where Grace was.

"Grace, man, she went upstairs with Jamie hours ago. Great girl, that Grace. She'll do all kinds of shit for some good coke. What do you want her for?" He asked. I grit my teeth, willing myself not to punch him for saying those things about someone so special.

"She's my girlfriend, asshole," I managed before stalking out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. The nervousness had gone now, and I was as angry as I'd ever been. I could feel a darkness welling up inside me and I didn't know if I could contain it this time.

"Grace?" I called, kicking open the first door I saw. I moved on to the next door, and the next and the next. Behind the final door, I saw a couple fucking on the bed in a dimly lit room. I stepped forward, silently. The couple rolled over, and the female turned her face towards me. Grace. If blood could run cold, mine did. I stepped forward, determined and shoved the man off of her.

"What the?" The guy slurred before hitting the floor with a thud.

"Grace?" I shook her, hoping she would be so far gone that I could blame this all on him. But when she looked at me, her eyes filled with tears, guilty tears.

"Tate I… I shouldn't have… you shouldn't have come here," she cried and I snapped.

"Don't you tell me I shouldn't have come here, don't you dare say that!" I yelled, feeling tears blur my own vision. I didn't want to cry in front of her, but my heart was breaking. "You invited me here! You told me to come!" I wailed, dropping to the floor. She didn't try to comfort me, just sat there with her face in her hands. When I thought I could breathe again without falling apart I got up, and left without looking back.

"Hey, you okay man?" It was the greasy guy from earlier.

"Grace," I said, matter-of-factly. He understood though, giving me a sympathetic little half-smile. He rummaged in his pockets until he pulled out a little plastic bag filled with white powder.

"On the house, dude. It'll make you feel better," he tossed it to me, and I caught it reflexively.

"Thanks," I muttered, before walking out of the house altogether, not bothering to close the door on the way out. Larry and my mother were sitting on the couch watching television, at opposite ends. I wrinkled my nose looking at them. I hate my mother at the best of times but Larry, my god I couldn't stand Larry. At least my mother was upfront about how much of a cocksucker she was, Larry couldn't even admit that his life, his 'new' family with us, was a sham.


	4. Salvation

As I stepped into my room I tossed the little bag of powder onto my desk. I wasn't going to use it… I wasn't that person. I'd never be that person, because drugs weren't the answer and I'd rather talk to my razorblade. I cautiously stepped out of my room, glancing each way for signs of life before slipping into the bathroom and locking the door tight. The walls were thin and echo-y in here, and I could hear the soft sounds of Addie's radio playing next door. I slipped my sleeve up and opened the cabinet, removing the blade wrapped in tissue I had stored carefully away on the top shelf. I knew, somewhere deep down, that I was overreacting to all this, I'd barely known her after all. It wasn't so much her, as an accumulation of things. I'd been searching for a sign, anything to give me hope that the world wasn't as shitty as I'd originally thought, and I'd considered for a moment that it was her. That Grace was the reason to stay in my selfish little life and not help to take away the oblivious, and the innocent.

But she wasn't, and I am a crusader again. I know now, more than ever, that the Noble War is coming, and that the archangels are standing by in all their glory to harvest the innocence I give to them. I'm so tired of bleeding green for everyone with shinier toys than me.

"Addie!" I roared, no longer bothering to soften my tone, not even for her. I would save her last, so she would feel safe with me, away from here. "Turn that shit down!" I added, and the radio shut off instantly but I received no reply. I'd frightened her.

I stalked out of the bathroom, my wrists forgotten and the razor lying in the sink. There would be enough blood tomorrow to redeem my sins. As I flopped onto my bed, I glanced at the little bag of powder, once… twice. My fingers twitched against my thighs and I couldn't keep still, not with it right there. I wanted it, badly.

"One little taste won't hurt," I muttered to myself through swollen lips, my mouth sticking on the salt on tear-tracked cheeks. I trotted over to the desk, sitting cautiously on the edge of my seat as I poured the powder out. I didn't know how to cut it, or line it up, so I made do with a pack of post-it notes and my finger, which wasn't the best idea as it stuck to my fingers and the lines were wobbly. I snorted it up anyway, forcing myself not to cough as the powder burned dry and dusty in my throat. I could almost feel my pupils dilate as everything made sense, I was relaxed and calm and I knew, with a certainty that reassured me, that I couldn't stop myself anymore. This wasn't my choice; I was the deliverer, but not the master behind the plan.

I don't think I slept at all, all night, with the buzzing in my brain and my finger jolting on the trigger of a loaded gun. It was such a rush, knowing at any second it could all be over, just like that. I was so numb it wouldn't even be my fingers on the trigger, it would be his. My alarm sounded heavy metal in a foreign language, bursting angry from the little speaker and I clicked it off, because it was time to go to war. Descending the stairs, I knew from the silence and the scent of smoke that Larry was at work and my mother was up and drinking. I didn't say a word as I left the house, heading straight for his corporate complex. I gave his name at the reception desk and told them I was his son, they let me straight up without a glance at my bulky backpack or the canister of gas I was carrying, because what danger would I cause to my father, I'm a perfect son.

"Tate? What are you doing here?" Larry looked up briefly from his typing. "Shouldn't you be at school?" He tagged on, hinting.

I'm going right after," I managed. I stared at him for a long moment, wondering if I would lose my courage. But this was just the sacrifice to please the Gods, the war had not started and if I couldn't do this, I couldn't do anything. He turned back to his typing and I launched into action, reciting the rites in my head as I doused him in gasoline. I prepare for the slaughter as I flick my zippo into life, dropping it onto him whispering a parting prayer on my tongue. I didn't stay to watch him burn, I turned and left as swiftly as I'd come, silent and deadly and as unnoticed as I had been since I was chosen for a higher purpose.

The school was in sight now, and the moment had come. It wasn't how I thought it would be, there was no music and there were no soldiers. The angels weren't waiting and the anticipation of death didn't hang in the air. Kids were laughing and shoving each other playfully as they made their way towards the door, ready for another day. Some reclined against cars, or shouldered their way through the masses alone, as tormented by High School as I. They are the ones I'm saving, right now. The world will eat them alive because High School is the first step in a long, long line of shitty experiences.

"Hey, Tate?" A guy I'd never met before fell into step beside me. I glanced at him, nodding a little for courtesy so I didn't raise any suspicions. "I heard about Grace, man. Kind of sucks that you got played, huh?" He smirked and I gritted my teeth.

"Yeah, well we were just fucking around. Doesn't mean shit," I shrugged. He blinked and his smirked dropped into a curved line, disappointed that he hadn't got the reaction he'd wanted. I'm sure he'd heard I'd cried and wanted to see it again. I thought about finding Grace, finishing her first. And then I realised: she no longer deserved the salvation I was offering. She was cruel, but I could be cruel too.

"Oh… that's cool then. See ya," and he was gone, proving he didn't give a shit in the first place.

It was sheer luck that brought me to the library. I'd thought long and hard about where I wanted to start, and about where I could save the most people. The Library was risky; I couldn't guarantee there would be anyone there. I shot two guys standing close to the doors, spattering the washed out face of a third before he scuttled into the library at the end of the corridor. I stepped slowly, whistling the battle hymn of my dreams as I made my way to the library. The doors were stuck when I reached them, and I rattled the handle a little. The force against them was thick and concentrated… a person. I raised my gun and pointed it at the centre of the wood, firing hard. Splinters shot back and chipped my face, but I barely felt them. My own blood was nothing compared to what was to come. The doors fell open then, submitting to me and emptying their contents, laying the innocents bare for my barrel.

Everyone is hiding, but I can sense them… feel the meaty thrum of their heartbeats under tissue and vein and artery, waiting for salvation with the anticipation of the kill. I decide to play hide and seek with the shelves in the English section, shoving my gun through a stack of Shakespeare and hearing her scream as the books fall beside her. I turn, slowly round the shelf and push my gun against her face.

"Do you believe in God?" I ask her, softly, and hope flashes through her eyes like she thinks I'm going to damn her.

"Yes," she bursts and I almost smile because I know it's a lie and so does she, and if she thinks I'm a born-again Christian I guess Jesus will save her.

"Good," I whispered, pressing the barrel to the side of her head and squeezing the trigger. Her brain looked fleshy and brilliant and I wanted to taste it, but there wasn't time and I hadn't saved anyone really, not yet. The kid from outside was next; he tried to beg for his life as I ended him. I guess I'd never understand why they were so scared of something so beautiful.

A smart guy from my Lit class was next, trying to call for help beside the reception desk. I hadn't really wanted to kill him, but I did. His jaw smashed against the desk and I smiled, turning to leave with the peace that I'd helped. I'd done my part. Sneakers on linoleum brought me out of my peace and I turned to see one of the faceless, nameless jocks I used to run track with standing behind me, anger labouring his breathing.

"Hey," his voice was sharp, and an octave deeper than natural. "That's enough, get out of he-"

I shot him in the head before he got to say his piece, and I wondered if that was wrong… if last words were necessary. The cry from under the desk told me I'd missed another innocent, and I pulled the table from its bolts to save her, too.

I shot a stray or two on the way home, whistling my battle hymn in victory for the lives I'd saved, and the ripples I'd caused in my little corner of this filthy goddamn horror show.

Sitting in my room, I waited and waited until the sirens wailed out down the street and a knock at the door tolled my death knell. My eyes watered as I thought about what was to come, and whether or not I'd made the right choices. I didn't want to die here, but it was too late, now. I closed my eyes and thought of Addie, and Beau, and my father.

"I wish I'd known you, daddy," I whispered, before standing at the sound of footsteps on the floor outside my door and my mother's shrill voice calling my name. I stood, holding my hands up in surrender, though the battle was over and I was surely the only victor.

The little red beams of their sniper rifles sizzled on my skin like they were burning me, and I lifted a shaky hand to point a mimicking finger gun at my head. I pulled my own personal trigger on my mind, making the sound like a child playing police officer. In the true fashion of 'going down with my ship' I made for my gun, feeling the bullets rip through my flesh before my finger could close around the trigger. Seventeen flashes of colour burst my brain like the seventeen bullets burst my body and I was on my way to salvation.


	5. Fear of Rejection

She was perched precariously on the edge of the window the next time I saw her, one purple-stocking clad leg dangling nonchalantly over the edge, eyes on the sky with no regard for how easy she could fall. She blew a plume of smoke into the atmosphere and I wanted to taste it on my tongue, knowing it had circled her lungs and then mine, like we were connected in some way more intimate than me watching her sleep on stormy nights. I wasn't sure how long I should leave it before I introduced myself to her, much less how I would go about doing it without her wondering why I was in her house. She got up suddenly, her movements jerky in a way I hadn't thought she'd move. She'd always seemed so confident in her every motion, she was fluid. She jerked her way to the bathroom, nearly tearing the cupboard door off the wall in her haste. I followed, curious as to what had made her behave so strangely.

If I truly believed my heart was beating it would have stopped in that moment, as she sliced a razor blade across the pale expanse of her forearm and watched the blood bead and drop into the basin below her. The fluidity was back, she was confident in her movements again, but where before I'd felt admiration, I felt worry, and wonder. I cut, when I was alive, and I could always see why it was smart. But not her… the moment I saw her blood pooling my brain screamed 'not her' and I forced myself to the other side of the door. I allowed myself to materialise again as I pushed the door open. It swung with an almost inaudible creak and she whipped around to face me, eyes sharp and mouth poised for a remark, indignant at being caught in such a situation. I wanted to rip the blade from her hand and break her arm for being so reckless, but instead I smiled, lazy and light as I met her eyes.

"You're doing it wrong," I stated propped against the doorjamb like I'd just stumbled across a stranger. "If you're trying to kill yourself cut vertically, they can't stitch that up." I don't know what reaction I was looking for as I searched her face, but her expression remained indignant and tight, and I inwardly groaned. She hadn't given me any indication as to her state of mind either way.

"How'd you get in here?" She demanded, and I detected a slight waver in her voice though she tried hard to hide it. I smiled, turning on the full force of my boyish charm as I began to pull the door closed again. "If you're trying to kill yourself," I added casually, "you might also try locking the door." I paced down the hall again, making my footsteps audible so she knew I wasn't lurking. The last thing I wanted was to creep her out. I made my way to the basement because I wanted to think about her in peace, without any of the more friendly inhabitants of the house trying to talk to me. I thought about the way her blood beaded on her pale skin before it dropped onto the porcelain of the basin below her, and I felt the familiar tingling in my pants at the thought of the blood… her blood. I wanted to taste it, more than anything. I wouldn't stop there though, as I palmed myself through the denim of my jeans I thought about the sound she'd make as I tore through her flesh, and the pretty shape my teeth would make on her neck as the blood welled up and dripped down, lower. Lower. The blood between her thighs as I tainted her with myself, filled her up as wide as she'd go and she'd groan, submitting to me completely. She'd do anything I wanted, as I grabbed my dick and squeezed at the base before jerking up and down the shaft roughly. My head dropped forward and I let out and audible, staggering breath, letting myself whimper and moan without a thought for the spirits that might be watching me, for once. She'd blush and whine and keen as I forced her creamy thighs apart to lick the blood from her core and she'd try, futile to push me away but I'd know, and she'd know, she wanted it and she'd beg if I wasn't already so willing. I could feel the coil in my stomach getting tighter and tighter as the thought of her coming around me swam in my head and replaced the demons, and I didn't think about her blood now so much as her moans and her groans and her hot mouth on mine as she whispered my name, unravelling into me. I came hard into my hand and against the wall of the basement, adding to the crusted stains I'd already left over seventeen years of pent-up teenage hormones.

I figured I had to go to my next appointment with Dr Harmon, even though I didn't need his help anymore, not now I'd found Violet. But it gave me a reason to be in the house, and so I thought I'd endure him. He was trying to trip me up, right from the start, asking me about the medication we both knew I wasn't taking, and I had to think on my feet to get away from his judging. I didn't want him to try and call the cops on me, or to keep Violet away from me, so I had to play his game and make him think I was better. Not like he really gave a shit about Violet anyway, not like I did. So I said the first thing that came to my head.

"I was afraid my big dick wouldn't work." Dr Harmon looked puzzled, but he was smiling.

"What?"

"Yeah that's why I didn't take the meds. I was afraid my dick wouldn't work." I thought, long and hard about whether to start easing Dr Harmon into the idea of me with Violet. Just as I was making my mind up, I saw her, in the doorway, eavesdropping on my session with an unreadable expression on her face. "Because I met someone," I added, turning to look her in the eyes, so she knew that I knew she was there. She drifted away from the doorway and, turning back to look at me, trailed her eyes towards the ceiling before rounding the corner out of sight. I took that as an invitation, and as soon as the session was over I made a big show of heading to the door, leaving and closing it loud enough for Dr Harmon to hear in his office, before turning back on myself and heading for the stairs. I already knew which room was hers, but she didn't know I knew that and I didn't want any awkward question so I paced up and down the corridor, dithering in front of each door before hers opened a crack and then wider as she ushered me in, past her. I instantly dropped to the floor, making myself comfortable so she knew I had every intention of staying put a while. She closed the door and folded gracefully in front of me, pulling the sleeves of her cardigan into her palms. I sighed, knowing I needed to make her realise that we were the same, that I understood her. I rolled the sleeve of my jumper and shirt up to the elbow and held my wrist up for her inspection. She gasped as she took in the multiple white scars decorating my flesh, and when her eyes met mine again they were curious, and a little warmer than they had been before.

"This one I did after my dad left, I was ten I think." I pointed to one of the deeper scars and stated it pointedly and blunt, like she did. She sucked in a breath before shoving her sleeve up to mirror mine, holding out her arm to display its much fresher, crimson cuts in straight horizontal lines.

"Last week, first day at my new school, sucks."

"Westfield right? The worst. I got thrown out of there." I let my distaste for the place show on my face with a slight wrinkle in my nose, and she smiled in a secret way that made me think she smiled just for me, and just for us.

"I hate it here. I hate everyone, all their bourgeois designer bullshit. East coast was much cooler; I mean at least we had weather." I wanted to take her to the East Coast, just us.

"I love it when the leaves change," I breathed, wistfully remembering how autumn had felt when I wasn't a prisoner.

"Yeah me too!" She gushed, but didn't volunteer anything else, and I'm not ashamed to say I was desperate for more, for anything I could find out about her that would fuel my obsession.  
>"Why'd you move here?" I asked, trying to make it sound casual as I got up to go to her blackboard.<p>

"My dad had an affair, my mum literally caught him in the act." She didn't sound upset, and I wondered how close she really was with her parents, or if I'd failed in trying to get her to trust me and she was still closed off.  
>"That's horrible!" I turned, eyes boring into hers with the conviction I wanted her to feel. "If you love someone you should never hurt them. Never." From the way she smiled, secret and small and just for me again, I knew I'd said the right thing.<p>

"Right? I know. And the worst part is that sixth months earlier my mum had like this brutal miscarriage, the baby was seven months old and we had to have this macabre funeral, have you ever seen a baby coffin?" I finished writing, branding her with the 'TAINT' I'd lay across her soul and her bed sheets given half the chance, and dropped beside her again. I was so overtaken by the way I felt, by the compulsive need I had to protect her, that I forgot she didn't know me like I knew her, and I took her hand in mine, turning it palm up and holding her there. The sincerity dripped from my tone with "I'm sorry," but she only held my eyes a moment longer before shifting, getting up and moving to turn off the music. I thought this was it, the moment she would tell me to leave and not come back, but she took me by surprise, something I was getting used to with her.

"Why are you seeing my dad?" The question annoyed me.

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to, you're smarter than that." I didn't mean to sound harsh, but that's how it had come out and I expected her to be offended, but she just smiled at me like she was impressed with my rudeness as she smiled again before changing the subject.

"Wanna listen to Morrisey? He's cool, and he's pissy, and he hates everyone and everything." She dropped onto her bed and looked at me with bright eyes, obviously wanting to please me.

"Got any Kurt Cobain on that thing?" I asked and she smiled, and I'm sure I was getting somewhere when the door opened and he spoiled everything.

"What are you doing in here?" Dr Harmon's voice brought me out of my fairy tale as I turned to look at him. Violet bristled at his intrusion, and I smiled inwardly at how fierce she was, and how she wasn't like that with me anymore because we had a secret.  
>"Just listening to music dad." Her voice was higher pitched than before, she was angry.<p>

"You need to leave Tate, I'm sorry. You shouldn't be in here and I think you know that, please." Violet didn't say anything now, and I stood, getting as close as I could so he would see how dark my eyes had become as I shook with rage. "What's that thing you think I'm afraid of? Fear of rejection?" I shoved past him and stomped into the hall, though I listened in when I heard them talking about me.

"Stay away from him." Dr Harmon's voice was calm but I knew he was worried, worried about his precious, fragile daughter he knew nothing about befriending a psychopath like me, and he suspected, whether it was a conscious thought or not yet, that his daughter might be the someone I had met.

"Dad, nothing-" She started but he cut her off.

"You heard me!" She didn't need to finish her sentence because I knew what was coming. Nothing happened. And that made me more furious than anything else, because she thought nothing happened. She didn't feel the connection between us and the significance of the new bond that had utterly changed my life. No, she had to feel it. We had a secret, she'd shown me that secret smile and she'd lain her vulnerability bare to my eyes. HE was making her think there was nothing. Nothing happened. That was Ben Harmon's poisonous lie, and he was going to pay for it. I could barely contain the muttering of the monsters inside of me as I supressed my rage and slammed my way down the stairs to the front door, ritually slamming it before flying into the basement in a whirl of fury to pound my fists against the concrete until my knuckles crumbled and I blacked out for a few hours.


	6. A Sense of Humour

I'd tried to think of the least creepy way to get her to meet me, intentionally, so she'd know I didn't just bump into her by accident. I didn't want her dad to make her think we had nothing. She needed to know we mattered, that she mattered to me in a way no one else ever would. I settled for a note on her pillow, because it was obvious enough that she couldn't miss it, but not so obtuse that her parents could see it and sabotage the meeting before she had a chance to see it.

It was simple, and I'd worked real hard to make my handwriting neat and rounded.

'Violet,

Meet me in the basement at midnight. We need to discuss some things. I miss you. T.'

I was unsure about the missing her part, worried it was too soon, but it was how I felt and I wanted to always be honest with Violet. To do anything less would be an insult. I waited in the dark until I heard her footsteps above my head, then moved out into the room to light the candles I'd snatched from the cabinet under the kitchen sink.

"Tate?" Her voice questioned. The basement was scary, really it even scared most of the spirits in the house, but her voice didn't shake with fear, he knew. He hoped the little waver in his name was anticipation of seeing him, because she felt as desperate without him as he did without her.

"Down here, Violet," I kept my voice low, sensual, holding one hand out over the candle closest to me. She placed her fingers against mine and I linked them with my own, pulling her down to a seated position opposite me.

"Are you scared, Violet?" I asked, lowly, my eyes boring into hers with the full intensity of my curiosity and shame. I needed her so badly.

"No. What's there to be scared of? Creepy basement?" She raised her eyebrows and I smiled, knowing she'd be the very last person to be scared by something as ordinary as a basement, however dark it was. "You?" She asked, quiet. Her lips parted a little and she darted her tongue out to swipe along the swollen, rosy flesh.

"Maybe. Are you?" I asked; my gaze intent on her mouth.

"No." The word was simple and subtle and I marvelled at the way her mouth formed an 'o' around the vowel, encircling it with her breath and kissing it reverently. I worshipped her, the sinful mouth with such pretty words. The words to absolve me.

"Maybe you should be," I muttered quietly. She caught my eyes again and pulled her hand from mine. I thought I'd done something wrong, or that I'd finally scared her into staying away from me, but she dropped her eyes to her hand and mine followed. She placed her palm against the flame of the candle, and her flesh was framed with the fire where her skin got thin. We watched her burn until the scent filled the room and we were drowning in the charred flesh, like a burnt offering to the powers that be to let us love, just once. I snapped out of my trance and shook the prayers from my hair as I seized her hand in mine and pulled it away from the flame, blowing it out in the process to keep her as far away from harm as I could. I cradled her palm in both of mine, lifting her hand to my face. The burn was blistering against the porcelain of her flesh and I kissed it, feeling the blood coat my lips and resisting the urge to bite down.

"Gross, Tate," she murmured, and I smirked.

"Why'd you do it?" She bit her lip and met my eyes, slowly, dragging her gaze up my body like the most thorough of benevolent examinations, Frankenstein and his monster alone in the basement.

"I'm not scared of you, Tate. I'm not." It wasn't an answer, but at the same time it spoke volumes.

"I'm scared of you." It was a statement, but she started, blinking rapidly with lines of worry creasing between her eyes.

"Maybe you should be," she retorted, her face breaking into a grin as she leaned forward to close the gap between us. I thought, for one beautiful, terrifying moment that she was going to kiss me, but she passed my face and placed her lips against my neck, right above the point my artery should be pumping the hardest, if my body had a need for blood. "My reflexes are second to none," she continued, lithely closing the distance between us and straddling my waist. I wasn't sure if this was a game or real, but either way I wasn't going to complain when she was this close to me.

"You don't think I could take you?" I breathed, because her lips were still against my neck and the life she exuded was rubbing off and I felt like everything was on fire and frozen over at once. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her off me, rolling her onto the floor and straddling her hips, pinning her hands above her head. She tugged at the make-shift restraints but there was nothing she could do, she was my prisoner now.

"Tate," she gasped from beneath me, and I almost let her go. I wondered if I'd gone too far, or if I was really hurting her, or if she liked it more than she was letting on, or if this were her showing me exactly how much she wanted it.

"Violet," I mocked, and she bucked her hips against mine involuntarily as she struggled to free herself. Only a virgin would do that without considering the consequences, and that made me so much harder for her. I thought about how easy it would be to take her right here, and that's when I knew I had to let her go and leave, before I ruined her body when she wasn't ready for me to. I'm not a fucking saint, I would have her eventually, but I wanted her to want it just as much as I did, and I wanted her to remember it forever so she'd never leave me.

"Does this get you off?" Her tone was harsh but I could tell she was curious. She took a little pleasure knowing she was turning me on.

"What if it does?" I challenged, and she bit her lip and closed her eyes. I saved her expression in my memory to add to my never ending source of material, and waited patiently while she composed herself. This, I could deal with. So long as he she didn't writhe around, I'd be okay.

"Then I'd tell you to get the fuck off of me, you pervert, before I bite your dick off," she sniped, her words steely and sexy as she glared at me.

"I don't think you're in a position to make threats," I remarked, but I let her go and moved off her. She sat up and kneed me in the balls, straight off the bat, before kissing my cheek and standing.

"This was fun, let's do it again sometime. Bye Tate," and like that she was gone, back up the steps and leaving me panting and hard against the grimy basement floor. I all but tore my pants off in my haste to finish it, and I let a loud, guttural groan escape my lips as I grasped myself. I didn't care too much about making it last or savouring the moment as I came, I just needed to relieve the painful pressure. I pulled my hand up, covered in cum and glanced around for something to wipe it on. I smirked wide when I saw she'd left her cardigan down here, though I hadn't remembered her taking it off. Picking it up and inhaling the scent that was uniquely Violet's, I wiped my fingers against the fabric and went upstairs, quietly. I waited until the lamp in her room shut off, then another painful 20 minutes before slipping inside and placing the cardigan on her bed. Then, I retired to the windowsill to watch over her until morning, because I didn't trust a single goddamn thing in this house, least of all myself.

When morning came I made myself invisible to her and waited with my fist in my mouth to stop from laughing when she discovered my gift. She picked up the cardigan with a slanted frown on her face, obviously trying to remember if she'd left it there or not. She didn't notice the crusted stain, standing up and shivering in her tank top. She eyed the cardigan again and I felt utterly euphoric at the idea she might put it on. She picked it up and sniffed it, cautiously, before shrugging and putting it on, wrapping it around herself before pulling her arms through the sleeves. I literally had to choke myself to stop from crying at the situation unfolding, as she stretched up to pull her hair out the back of the material and felt the dried semen against her lower back. She froze, and then reached behind her to feel the material with her fingers. She ripped the fabric from her back and turned it over, chanting "no, no, no, no!" as she inspected the damage. I saw the moment the clogs clicked in her head and her eyes widened, narrowed and widened again.

"Son of a-" I was shaking with silent laughter to the point where I lost balance, and at that moment I fell out of the window. Even from the ground, I could hear her fuming in her room and giggled.

"That disgusting, fucking, I HATE teenage boys!" She raged as she stomped around her room and I allowed myself to materialise, sitting up cross-legged on the grass, barely feeling the leg I know I'd broken in the fall as I fell about in hysterics. I wasn't counting on her hearing me, and I was counting even less on the bucket of ice water she lobbed down, bucket included, from smacking me in the face and now she was the one laughing, a mean, light little sound that made me laugh too even though the cold stung and a bucket at that velocity almost broke my nose.


	7. Just a Taste

"I hate her I just wanna kill her!" She was pacing back and forth in front of me whilst I played therapist, one leg crossed over the other as my eyes followed her movements. Seeing her so agitated was making my pants tight. I could feel the darkness rising in me as I took in the cut on her forehead and the way her chest moved as she inhaled and exhaled, fast fast fast.

"Then do it." I know I was encouraging bad behaviour, but a part of me wanted her to be like me so badly. "One less high school bitch making the lives of the less fortunate more tolerable is in my opinion, a public service." She stopped pacing and turned to look at me, a hand resting in her hair as she raked it back from her face. She glanced at me in a way that was undecided, she didn't know whether to hear me out or run away. I sighed and sat forward, knowing now it was too soon in our relationship for me to let her know who I truly was. As far as she was concerned, I cared as much about the sanctity of human life as she did. "Look you want her to leave you alone, stop making your life a living hell short of killing her, there's only one solution. Scare her. Make her afraid of you. It's the only thing bullies react to." She bit her lip, considering.

Hesitating, she took a step towards me. "How?"

"It's simple." I smiled because I'd hooked her in. "You simply walk up to her and say 'here's the deal. I need you to stop harassing me. I got what you want, drugs. Come to my house tomorrow for your free sample, I'm a dealer and a good one, I got the best shit in town.'" I tried to show her how to make her voice strong and sure, junkies could sniff out weakness a mile off and this couldn't backfire, because she'd get the shit beaten out of her and there's no way I could wait until Halloween to kill the bitch. I'd go mad.

"She's a coke head, I don't have coke." She threw her hands up, the sleeves of her cardigan coming down to reveal the healing cuts on her wrists. She didn't shy away from it, and I was touched by the gesture.  
>"You won't need any, it's just an excuse to get her here, after that she'll leave empty handed and terrified, and I promise you, you'll never be bothered by her again." I could see the indecision in her eyes, and she reached up and touched the cut on her head before her eyes clouded and her mouth set in a hard line.<p>

"How am I going to terrify her?" Triumphant, I began to think about the ways I could enjoy this without scaring Violet away or killing the bitch in the house. I didn't want her around, poking her nose in and making things even a little more difficult for me than it already was. She'd tell Violet for sure, just to spite us both. As I considered, I could feel the darkness clawing its way up my throat, a battalion of suggestions at the forefront of my consciousness, all the horrible things I could do to the high school bitch, all the monstrous things I could do to Violet. The darkness played a helter skelter in my head, over and over and round and around as I grasped at the edges of my mind to regain control before I made her bleed. Her fingers touched my cheek gently and I looked up at her, the darkness clearing as she dispelled it with her light. I forced a smile and she gave me a relieved one back, trailing her fingers down my neck as she settled in my lap. I held her close and pressed my lips to her ear.

"That's where I come in." I wasn't sure exactly what I had planned yet, only that it would involve the basement, and I'd have to ask Moira a few things, and find something to bribe Thaddeus with. He would play a central role in my plans.

"Are you okay, Tate?" She mumbled against my chest. I tightened my grip on her in response, wanting to feel her as close to me as possible, needing the restraint her weight provided.

"I'll be okay. I'm okay when you're here."

"Good thing I'm not going anywhere then," she breathed, stretching her neck up and nipping my Adam's apple between her teeth, playfully. The tingling jolts of pleasure I'd felt at her anger sparked up again.

"Violet," I half warned, half whispered.

"Mmm?" She trailed off, sucking her desire into my neck, pressing her tongue on my pulse.

"Dangerous territory," I whimpered out, shifting her in my lap. She giggled, nibbling at the corner of my jaw before kissing a trail across my cheek. I whined, low and shaky and seized her hand, forcing it down against my arousal. Her mouth popped open and she looked at me with wide eyes, filled with surprise.

"I did that?" She asked, and a new, little smirk twitched at the corner of her bruised lips.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Violet," I groaned, bucking against the hand I still held at my crotch, so desperate for friction that I could cry.

"Shall I?" She trailed, no idea what to say to propose what she wanted. I knew, though. I shifted her in my lap so she straddled my waist, pushing her thighs apart and palming her through her underwear. She wasn't wearing any tights and I was grateful. She mumbled something incoherent and sighed, a wet spot appearing on the front and moistening the ends of my fingertips. I pressed against her entrance and she smiled, wide and pretty. I caught her lips with mine and forced my tongue into her mouth, matching the way I thrust it into her cavity to the rhythm of my fingers stroking her through the fabric. She pulled away, keening, frowning.

"Too much," she whined.

"Want me to go inside you?" I asked. It wasn't the clearest way I could put it, and it didn't sound particularly romantic, but right now, the way she was wriggling in my lap, I couldn't be bothered to care.

"Off," she growled, and it took me a second to realise her fingers were scrabbling at my belt. I moved her off a little, popping my pants open and dragging them down my thighs, where she helped me drop them to my ankles. I left my underwear on, not sure if we were anywhere near _there_ just yet, but it didn't matter that much when she was sitting high up on me again, creating the friction I so desperately craved. I decided this was enough for right now and grasped her hips, pushing her back and forth against me. I inhaled sharply at the new sensation and she exhaled, enjoying herself again.

"Not…" she gasped.

"Enough," I nodded my head, damp curls getting in my eyes as I lifted her off me and stood her shakily on her feet. She looked at me, puzzled and blissed and flustered as I dropped to my knees, pulling her with me to rest on the rug. It was then I remembered where we were, in Dr Harmon's office, and I took a moment to grin at how he would react if he knew.

I pressed her into the floor and spread her legs, taking a moment to see how wet she'd gotten. I wanted so badly to taste her, but I didn't want to move to fast. She was a virgin and I wanted her to feel nothing but pleasure, in stages, building up to the main event. And I know it's going to sound totally out of character for me, but I wanted her to love me as much as I loved her. I settled between her legs, pushing my erection against her. She bit her lip uncertainly and I smiled.

"I'm not going to pressure you, Violet. Underwear stays on right now, okay? We can have fun without it, if you let me show you," I pressed open mouth kisses along her neck as I rutted against her, sighing into her skin. She knotted her fingers in my hair and tugged, hard. The pain and the pressure made me growl, pressing myself harder against her.

"Say my name, Violet," I growled again and she tugged again, angling her movements because she'd figured out this was a trigger for me.

"Tate ugh, Tate," she moaned, chanting my name like a prayer. I felt my stomach tighten and my legs begin to shake, knowing I was close and judging by how damp her underwear was against me, she was getting there too.

"You close?" I managed through gritted teeth and laboured breathing and she nodded.

"Yes, God, yes," she bashes her head against the floor below her and I leaned down to bite into her neck, leaving my mark in three places before I came, hot and heavy in my underwear. I know she felt it, because her eyes clenched shut before shooting open with a "Tate," mouthed on her lips. We collapsed for a moment before I sat up next to her. She was too blissed out to move, and I'd bet anything that was her first orgasm. I glanced down at her exposed thighs, and if the stickiness in my underwear hadn't been so uncomfortable I'd have gotten hard again at the glistening liquid I saw on her thighs. I peered cautiously at her face, noticing her eyes were still closed. Curiosity killed the cat and I knew she'd probably be pissed at me but it was worth it, to satiate the monsters. I skimmed my fingers up her thigh and over her soaked underwear, collecting her moisture before bringing my fingers gratefully to my lips, cradling them in my other hand like something precious. She opened her eyes and watched me suck each finger into my mouth. She didn't look angry as I met her eyes, just curious and maybe a little grossed out if the way her nose wrinkled up is anything to go by.

"What does it taste like?" She asked me, and I flopped down beside her, resting my head on my hand and inclining my body to face her.

"I don't know that there's anything to compare it to. It's nice, because it's you," I tried. Yeah, that was the best I could think of.

"Hmm." Her answer was short as she turned her head to look at the ceiling again.

"Are you mad?" I had to ask the question, because anticipating an explosion was killing me. She didn't answer for a long minute.

"No… just," and lightning quick she was sitting up, straddling my thighs as her hand delved into my underwear and shot out again, coated in my semen.

"Violet…" I trailed, my eyes transfixed on her hand, and it's relative proximity to her mouth.

"Fair's fair," she muttered, before placing her index finger at her lips and sucking it into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. She pulled it out glistening and clean and I swallowed hard as she repeated the action, licking the beads that ran down her wrist and drinking me in.

"What does it taste like?" I mimicked her and she smiled, wicked and radiant and innocent all at the same time.

"Salt. But it's okay, because it's you and it tastes like you should taste. I want to try it from the source sometime," she commented lightly and I groaned.

"Tease. I want to taste you, too," I said as I pushed her off me and crawled onto my knees, climbing over her and kissing her lips so we could taste each other. Her tongue probed my mouth greedily and I responded by pushing my tongue against hers, running it along the ridges of her gums and over her teeth.

We pulled away a few minutes later because at least one of us still needed to breathe and I think she'd forgotten about that until she spluttered and gasped, breathing shaky as she tried to regain control of her lungs before they abandoned ship and made her my prisoner forever. I thought it was all pretty ironic, I wanted to keep her alive because I was falling for her, and it was my love that almost choked her to death. She pushed me back again, something that was becoming a regular move for us, and laid her head against my chest, her fingers tangling in my shirt and her legs tangling with mine.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," she mused.

"Maybe we can… after we deal with your high school bitch."


	8. Things that Go Bump in the Night

**A/N: Would have been up sooner, but the uploader kept crashing, sorry! Thanks to everyone that's reviewed so far!**

I'd heard them clattering down the basement steps, Violet's voice calm and convincing. I was proud. As they rounded the corner, I heard the high school bitch sneer, "You better not be fucking with me." I rolled my eyes, beginning the rocking motion in the white chair in the corner of the basement. Everything would go according to plan.

"So this is the coke whore." I kept my expression neutral but menacing, forcing myself to look at the high school bitch though I could feel Violet's gaze on me. I wanted to know what her expression looked like, was she scared? Excited? It's kind of pathetic how much I was seeking her approval now, with everything I did.

"Who the hell are you?" The bitch looked a little scared now, like this wasn't what she'd signed up for. I could see her start to edge backwards, but Violet had draped herself across the doorway like we'd practised, making her feel caged and nervous. Without acknowledging her question, but still looking straight at her, I ordered Violet. "Get the lights."

The light began to flicker on and off rapidly as I rocked, my movement becoming more and more jerky. Thaddeus is attracted by sound, he doesn't know anything more than primitive instinct, so I began laughing, high pitched and manic. I had to make this a freaky as possible, so I started muttering and snapping my head around, like I'd seen the people do on psychic shows my mother used to watch for hours on end.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" The bitch screeched… it was working. I launched myself from my seat, shoving her to the ground and beckoning Thaddeus as I held her weight down with my hips. She continued to scream as Thaddeus came closer and closer, his eyes dark and his teeth gleaming in the erratic pattern of the light. I wasn't sure if Violet was controlling the lights anymore now, or if the house had taken control, eager for another guest. Though I'd love to see this high school bitch in a place where she could never hurt Violet again, I knew I didn't want her here, forever. I'd made that mistake with the queens, not anticipating just how difficult they would be to live with afterwards. I decided to let Thaddeus have just a taste, as I watched in a moment of clarity and beauty, the hope and fight leave her eyes and her face become desolate, and time seemed to stop as she accepted her fate… she saw Thaddeus for what he was, or at least what he appeared to be. He was the saddest story in this whole goddamn house.

I shoved Violet, too, when I was sure Thaddeus was under control. I didn't shove her hard, but it was hard enough to knock her to the ground as Thaddeus came towards her. I had to be very, very careful here, allowing Thaddeus to get just close enough to terrify her, but not close enough to touch her. No one got to touch her but me.

Hearing Violet's scream was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard, and I knew I'd spend eternity trying to replicate it to lace my dreams with the way it made me feel. I held her close, pulling her against me and back to the wall before taking my place in the chair again, watching for the moment Thaddeus would remember his original prey and strike. He sat on top of the bitch, his face and his teeth close to her, as he reached one deformed, clawed hand towards her face.

"Mommy," she mouthed, the sound barely vocal through her fear. I felt my face split into a smile, the same one I'd been wearing when Violet and the bitch had entered the basement.

Thaddeus slashed at her face, and I leaned in close, barely uttering a "go away" before beginning my rocking again as Thaddeus disappeared. Violet scrabbled for the light switch, her face a mask of confusion and blurry eyes as she stared at the girl on the ground. The bitch stilled, sobbing before crawling into a standing position, hunched and vulnerable and an altogether different person from the cocky bitch that walked in. She shoved past Violet and I, making for the stairs and leaving the basement. It was over in a matter of minutes, but I knew everything was different now, because Violet shoved passed me too, running round corners after her.

"Leah wait!" She yelled, and I realised she was crying, too. Didn't she know I'd never let anything happen to her? I'd never let Thaddeus even touch her, let alone scar her like the high school bitch. I could see the shake in her legs from the doorway as she gazed tearfully towards the basement door, and I half expected her to run away and never come back too, but of course, that wasn't Violet, not by a long shot. She'd need answers, she'd demand to know what had happened tonight, but I'd planned for that, and I had a story all set up.

"I don't think she'll be bothering you anymore." I tried to make my voice sound casual, light, amused even, hoping she'd see the joke in it all… hoping she wasn't scared.

"What was that?" Her voice was at higher pitch than usual, and I guessed that was stress-induced more than anything. She couldn't be scared, not with words that strong and the conviction of someone who was utterly sure of themselves.

"What are you talking about, she kneed me in the balls and got away. She must have run into a wall or something." I shrugged, pushing off from the wall and taking a step towards her. I kept my face friendly and my arms open, still hopeful that she would forget this whole thing and we could go up to her room and listen to music and sit on the floor and maybe make out a bit.

"No. I saw something." She enunciated each word a little slow, probably to let me know she had no intention of giving this up, not without getting some answer. I guess I'd underestimated her again, thinking that story would work on someone as suspicious and biting as Violet. She questioned everything twice and could never really be satisfied, even with the honest to God truth, so I don't know why I thought that would work.

"What are you talking about, Violet you're talking crazy, this is cool, we showed that bitch." I grinned, jerking my head slightly to let my hair fall into my eyes because I know she's got a soft spot for when I do that. Her fingers twitched at her side, and I knew she was fighting the habit of brushing it out of my face and smoothing her palm against my cheek.

"Get out, I never want to see you again." There was no power behind her words because she didn't really mean them, and I knew she was just confused… she wasn't really angry at me, more at the information she was sure I was withholding, and the disappointment she had in herself for getting scared. I wasn't sure whether I should obey her request and come back to be the caring and understanding boyfriend later or fight now, but I knew either way I needed to make her see that I wasn't the bad guy here and I didn't want her to be afraid of me.

I took a step forward, hands out in a surrendering gesture. She didn't move towards me, but she didn't move farther away either, which I took as a good sign. Just as I reached her and reached out to her, her face changed and her posture hardened, like she had been fighting a battle within herself and one side just won. She put her hands out, palms first and shoved against my chest. Though she was pretty weak, I stumbled backwards because I just hadn't been expecting it, at all. Before I had a chance to react she clattered up the stairs and away, and I was glad of it, weary of my reaction. Last time I'd felt rejected, when Dr Harmon had kicked me out of her room, I'd sworn to kill him if I ever got the chance… anger wasn't good for me.

"I THOUGHT YOU WEREN'T AFRAID OF ANYTHING!" I yelled after her, not sure if she'd heard but needing to get the words out. I felt betrayed by her in a way, because I'd always believed she was like me, that I'd finally found someone who saw the world the way I did, and I'd thought that had been confirmed when she'd expressed her desire to kill the bitch, back in Dr Harmon's office. This had all gone horribly wrong, though the plan went down perfectly, more or less. I hadn't expected Violet to react quite how she did, and so maybe I didn't know her character quite well enough yet. I mean, I hadn't exactly meant to set Thaddeus on her, as such, I just wanted to show her that I could protect her… I wanted to give her a reason to need me around. I'd make this right, eventually. I just had to show her that I was vulnerable too, and that I really, really, wasn't the bad guy here.


	9. Green Light

I didn't see Violet for three days. I watched her at night again, just to keep her safe. She would come home late from school and spend all her time hanging around her parents, though she didn't talk to them. I knew she was doing it so I couldn't talk to her, and it hurt, but I knew she'd come around. I could wait. Two more days passed, and though I told myself I was giving her space, I knew if the opportunity to be alone with her for five minutes arose, I'd take it. My moment came when she was helping her mother make dinner.

"Hey Vi, could you take this out to the trash for me?" Vivien smiled and held out an empty egg carton.

"Can't you make dad do it?" She asked, and I didn't miss the way her eyes darted anxiously to the door, like she knew I was lurking around waiting for her.

"Violet, he's with a patient, you know that. Come on, it's not a big deal," Vivien waved her off and Violet sighed, taking it and making for the back door.

"Fine, but if I'm not back in two minutes, alert the police." Vivien laughed, but I knew she wasn't joking, and it kind of sucked that Violet thought I'd hurt her or murder her or whatever. She walked quickly towards the trash cans at the end of the drive, and the look on her face almost made me give up my plan. But the longer she thought she was safe, the harder it would be to convince her she needed me. I waited until she was passing the wall, close to her door, before springing myself on her and wrapping my arms around her torso, binding her to me.

"What the-" She squeaked, and I lifted one hand to press against her mouth, using my other to spin her round to face me but kept her close.

"It's only me, Violet." When she'd stopped struggling, I let her go, but she didn't run away.

"What are you doing here? I told you I didn't want to see you again." She crossed her arms and scowled at me, it made me smile… my fierce Violet.

"I didn't believe you." I shrugged, and she cracked the smallest of smiles.

"That shit in the basement? That was fucked up, Tate." I nodded, face serious and eyes sincere as I took a step towards her. She didn't push me back, but she didn't meet my eyes either. I lifted her face with my fingers and smiled.

"I know. I'm sorry, Violet. I didn't mean to scare you, and I didn't mean for that bi- _Leah_ to get hurt, I just wanted her to leave you alone." I brushed my fingers down her cheek and felt her flesh warm under my touch as a blush bloomed over her complexion.

"Okay. I believe you, Tate. I'm sorry. Where have you been all week, anyway?" I bit my lip, leaning down to press my mouth to hers. Pulling back just enough that I could form words, I whispered, "around," nipping her bottom lip between my teeth and applying the lightest of pressure. She sighed and I relished the feeling and taste of her breathe in my mouth. She pulled away first, but the regret on her face curbed my feeling of rejection.

"I have to go, my mom will be worried I've been out here so long." She stepped back, eyes not leaving mine.

"Meet me in the basement? Tonight?" I asked hopefully, not sure if she'd go back down there now, but of course I was wrong.

"Sure. Midnight?" She raised an eyebrow and I grinned.

"Not scared?" I asked and she scoffed.

"I'm not scared of anything." She winked before disappearing back inside the house, and for once I wasn't angry when I descended the steps to the basement, and for once I could see the beauty in everything. I thought about setting up candles again, but I didn't want to stay in the basement this time. We would wait until her parents were asleep, and I would charm my way into her bedroom, and that was that. I needed to be surrounded by everything Violet.

"Tate?" Her voice was a hissed whisper, so I assumed her parents were still up. I met her at the bottom of the stairs, pulling her into my arms and letting her bring my face down to meet hers.

"Hi," I mumbled against her, and she responded by pushing her tongue past the barrier of my teeth and licking into the cavity, caressing the roof of my mouth. I groaned and clutched her tighter, pushing her against the wall so I could move my hands to her hips, brushing my thumbs against the bone in small circles. We pulled away at the sound of a door closing somewhere far in the silent house.

"Good, my dad's finally gone to bed. Do you want to come upstairs? I mean, I'm not scared of this basement but it's kind of disgusting down here," she wrinkled her nose, running her finger against the wall where an 'unknown' substance crusted off on her fingers and I stifled a laugh.

"You read my mind," I grinned as she took my hand and pulled me up the steps. I stumbled, twice because she was smaller and lither and altogether more alive than I was, but she didn't slow her pace and I just had to adjust my movements to mirror hers to avoid busting my face on the steps, and then the hall, and then more steps, and then I was on her bed and she was on top of me and I didn't mind being pulled around so much if it got me here. I'd been in the room before, obviously, but not like this. Things were different now, and everything looked different because of it. Her hairbrush made me think of the silky smooth way her hair felt through my finger-tips. When I looked in her mirror, I imagined her looking at herself, smiling as she applied the miniscule amount of mascara to accentuate her beauty. And don't get me started on her bed. Her bed was the staging for most of my deepest, darkest fantasises at the best of times, but since I'd seen her come and tasted her and kissed her, it was all I could do stop myself from coming just at the sight and scent of her duvet.

"I know I'm a little messy, but you're not a neat freak, are you?" She teased, obviously her way of letting me know I'd left the building quite some time again. I felt my face heat up at her gentle teasing, so I pushed her off me whilst keeping hold of her hips so I could climb on top of her, resting lightly between her legs and nuzzling my face into her neck. She sighed, lacing her fingers into my hair and tugging softly on the strands.

"Do you want to stay tonight?" She asked softly, and I nodded, not moving my face from her neck because she smelt good and I knew that if I wanted to, I could reach out and trace her pulse with my tongue. "Tate?" She asked, breaking the silence and ceasing the cares of her fingers in my hair for a moment.

"Mmm?" I mumbled against her, and felt her squirm under the vibrations I rippled on her skin.

"What are we?" I thought I knew what she meant, but I sat up and rolled next to her all the same.

"We're together. Forever and always." I stated firmly, and she smiled, wide and secret and just for me.

"Hmm," she agreed, running her hand along my face and knotting her fingers in my hair again. I made a noise in the back of my throat at the feeling, and she gave the handful of hair a little tug. I shuffled closer to her, running my fingers up and down her arm before I became completely impatient and just climbed on top of her, pressing my crotch against her stomach. She made a funny sound somewhere between a moan and a squeak before pressing her lips to mine and losing both her hands in my hair.

"Sorry to barge in on you but I heard some-" I flew off Violet lightning fast and landed on the floor beside her bed with a thump. It was too late to disappear now because she'd definitely seen me, so I just waited there for the ground to swallow me up or for Violet to say something.

"Mom! I…" She trailed, because there was no way of lying out of this one. We'd been caught, completely and utterly, and I could only pray that Vivien wouldn't tell Dr Harmon because he would kill me… metaphorically of course. If I couldn't see Violet, I might as well not be alive, after all. I poked my head over the side of the bed, realising Violet would probably appreciate the back up.

"Mrs Harmon, nothing freaky was happening, I promise. I was just leaving, really," I stood up, looking frantically for the shoes I knew I'd left around here.

"It's okay, don't panic guys. Violet, we'll talk in the morning. And…" she looked to me and I felt a little insulted that Violet hadn't mentioned me, before remembering that she doesn't talk to her parents much and Dr Harmon was far from happy about this.

"James," Violet quipped and I nodded smiling.

"James." Vivien repeated, smiling politely. "Well, we won't tell your father about this, but next time you want to have a boy stay over, would you just ask? I'm not a prude, I don't mind," she shot Violet a conspiratory smile, before turning to leave. As soon as the door was closed, Violet buried her face in a pillow and punched the mattress beside her.

"That was _so _humiliating. Why did that even…Ugh!" She groaned and I perched on the bed beside her.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, placing a hand on her lower back and rubbing the tension out soothingly. She rolled over and took my hand in hers, placing them both on her stomach.

"No, we've been given the green light now, don't see that there's much point," she sighed, giving my fingers a squeeze.

"Okay. Shall we just go to sleep?" I suggested, and she nodded, sitting up to pull her shirt off. I tried to stare without being caught, but naturally she noticed and wiggled her eyebrows at me.

"Like what you see, Mr Langdon?" She asked and I blushed furiously.

"Naturally. Though, you haven't seen anything until you've seen…" I pulled my shirt off and ran my fingers down my chest, slowly, loving the way her eyes followed my fingers hungrily.

"Tate…" she breathed, and I pretended to be oblivious, closing my eyes and parting my lips, baiting her.

"Mmm?" I answered her with a moan, throwing my head back a little so she could see the strain in my neck. My eyes flew open in surprise as something warm and wet came into contact with my chest. I glanced down to see her looking up at me with big, lust blown eyes and I looked down a little further to see her mouth connected with my nipple, sucking and grazing it with her teeth. I slipped my hands down to cup her ass and bring her closer to me, and I felt, more than heard her moan.

We didn't take it further than that, because Violet was tired and I just wanted her to be happy. I watched, unashamed as she stripped down to her underwear and searched the floor for something to wear, deciding on the shirt I'd discarded.

"You just want to keep me topless, huh?" I teased, but I couldn't deny the fact that she looked damn good in it, and the man in me swelled happily at the sense of ownership I had when she wore my shirt and nothing else.

I waited until she'd curled up under the covers before slotting in beside her, tucking my knees under hers and wrapping an arm around her waist. She sighed in her sleep and craned her neck up, giving me the access I needed to place a chaste kiss on her jugular.

"Violet?"

"Yes?"

"If I'm not here when you wake up, your dad probably found me and you should check for fresh graves in the backyard." She fell asleep in my arms with a smile on her face and a giggle in her throat, and that's how I wanted her to fall asleep every night.


	10. Therapy

No matter how lenient Vivien was with our relationship, Ben had to be punished for trying to break me and Violet up. I knew I had a session coming up, and seeing as he thought that was the only time I was in the house anymore, my point would have to be made within the walls of his study. He smiled, tightly at me, as I dropped my messenger bag beside the leather couch and settled comfortably on it.

"So Tate, how have things been going since our last session?" He asked. I stared at him blankly, toying a small, secret smirk at the corner of my lips. The smug, self-assured bullshit persona he usually carried so well began to fade as though he were figuring out my tactics. His phone buzzed against the table top and he spared it a glance, moving to pick it up but stopping when he saw the annoyance on my face. I suppose he was trying to play my game, but that simply wouldn't do. He waited, and I waited as the phone jolted loudly through the wood, over and over, before stopping, the screen lighting up. The display read '14 missed calls' and I wondered who he was avoiding. After a moments silence it began again, and I guess he realised he wasn't going to win now because he picked it up and moved it onto a softer surface, rejecting the call and smiling politely at me.

"Sorry," he said, his eyes crinkling in a reassuring, fatherly gesture that made my heart ache. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and continued in my plan to make his skin crawl.

"So, what do shrinks think about when a wildly brilliant patient doesn't talk to punish said psychiatrist?" I paused a moment as though this speech wasn't rehearsed. "I bet you think about sex." Though he tried to hide it, I caught the tightening in his eyes as I tried to drag him out of his comfort zone, but it was covered in a moment and the psychiatrist bullshit training was back.

"Do you think about sex a lot?" he asked, pressing his pen to his lips in a way that made me want to shove it down his throat. He didn't deserve Violet, and I needed him to know that.

"I think about one girl in particular. Your daughter. I jerk off thinking about her… a lot." I smiled, my most filthy smirk just for him. This time the tightening didn't go away, because I'd hit a nerve.

"I'm not comfortable with you talking about my daughter, Tate." And I wasn't sure whether it was because he loved his 'little girl' and didn't want her to be soiled that way, or that he was uncomfortable because he knew so little about her.

"Don't you wanna know what I'd do to her?" it was rhetorical of course, because I knew that he wouldn't ever want to know about my private fantasies, but this was his punishment and he needed to know that I wasn't going to leave Violet alone, even if it meant not seeing my perfect fucking therapist anymore. I leaned forward, licking my lips as I delved into one of my private thoughts. I considered telling him the truth… exactly what had happened on the floor of this office, but I couldn't risk getting Violet in trouble. So I settled for one of the thought's I'd had when alone in the basement, the way she'd moan as I kissed down her neck, and the way the blood between her thighs would taste. "I lay her down on the bed, and I caress her soft skin, make her purr like a little kitten. She's a virgin. They get wet _so _easily. I knew I was getting hard, shamelessly, my legs wide enough for Dr Harmon to notice. Good. There's no way he could brush this off as an act now.

Dr Harmon sucked in a breath and cocked his head to the side like he was examining me. I didn't like it. It didn't make me feel like I was in control when he did that, and I was the only one who could be in control of me… other than Violet, whether she meant to be or not.

"Do you turn to these thoughts to comfort yourself, in times of stress?" I grit my teeth, because I wasn't getting to him enough. He was still analysing me like any other patient… like I wasn't his daughter's soul-mate.

Figuring I'd give him the bullshit psychology he'd want, I replied. "Actually yes. I jerk off a lot to make the visions go away. The blood, and the carnage. I want the thoughts to go away, and you're not helping me." The accusation in my tone didn't go unnoticed, but it didn't bother him like I hoped. Obviously he didn't care whether I thought he was a good therapist or not, which meant he was probably only interest in where his next pay-check was coming from. I could live with that. In fact, it kind of made it easier to know I was going to make his life hell and fuck his daughter, because it would just be anybody, not a teenage boy he trusted, just another faceless manila file in his draw.

His tone was patient, as he made excuses. "Well we've only been working together a few weeks now." And I knew I was losing him, and he was about to give some stupid speech about progress and time and medication and talking things through. I caught him off guard with a topic change.

"You're sexual, right?" He leaned forward, surprised by my quick topic change. Maybe this tactic would work where his daughter and his profession hadn't. "Violet told me about the affair with the girl in Boston. Not much older than her, she said." I saw his jaw tighten and his body go stiff, and I knew I'd found his trigger. I don't know why I didn't pick up on it before, obviously he would be affected by that which affected him directly more than care for his own family. He had no idea how lucky he was to have Vivien and Violet, and the sickest part was that he'd never deserve them.

"Our time is up." No, no way was he getting away with it that easily. A part of me just knew, instinctively, he'd now do anything he could to refrain from seeing me again, so I had to fight for this.

"Bullshit," I drawled, "I don't accept that." I sat forward, my mouth a stiff, stern line, eyes black. He didn't flinch, and I knew I'd lost.

"Our time is up for today, Tate." I stared him down for a few more seconds before standing abruptly and picking up my bag, making for the door with the intention of breaking my hands against someone's bones and then maybe going to see if Violet wanted to hang out.

As it turned out, there was no one in the basement when I went down there, and no one in this house trusted me enough to let me lure them anyway, so I figured I'd see if watching Violet for a while calmed me down enough to expose myself to her safely. When I materialised, invisible in her room, she was curled up on her bed with a book, and the scent of her cigarettes lulled me like my mother's had when I was too young to know the truth about my family. Something soft was playing in the background and I wondered where it was coming from, because I couldn't figure out the little rectangular object or where you were supposed to put the disks. I stepped as close to her as I dared, and thought I would get away with being this close to her, before her head jerked up and to the side, so we were almost nose to nose. I held my breath, sure she'd feel it, before she sighed back against the pillows propped along the headboard and went back to her book.

Deciding now was as good a time as any, I knocked on her door from the outside and poked my head round the door. She smiled when she saw me, the aggravation at being disturbed dropping from her face and the book dropping from her hands as she got up to greet me. I folded her small frame into my chest, holding my jacket open and around her so she was enveloped in me. I knew it was irrational, but I wanted her to smell like me so maybe, if she decided to grace her parents with her presence for dinner tonight Dr Harmon would recognise the scent and know I'd been with her, but have nothing solid enough to prove it with.

"What're you doing here?" She asked, but her voice was angry, just surprised, so I smiled.

"I just had a session with your dad. Probably my last," I bit my lip, wondering how I would explain my being here all the time without the solid alibi I'd had before, and possible sabotaged. I didn't know what to tell Violet, either, because somehow I didn't think the truth about my conversation with her father would go down well.

"Okay." She said simply, threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck and tugging me gently down for a sweet kiss. "I downloaded some Nirvana for you," she said when we broke apart, and I didn't know how to ask her what that meant, so I hoped she'd just show me. She took my hand and tugged me over to the little rectangle piece of technology that I would never get to grips with, and plugged it into a thing with a speaker attached. She fired it up, and I lost concentration because her tongue was poking out of the side of her otherwise closed lips and I'm an eternally teenage boy. Suddenly Kurt Cobain's voice rang out, angsty and perfect, just like the moment. She turned, beaming, looking for my approval, which I was most certainly willing to give her. She'd done this all for me.

"Do you like?" She asked, deftly running her tongue over her bottom lip. I think my expression must have been pretty blank at the moment, because she looked a little worried.

"Thank you," I managed, because I hadn't listened to Nirvana in forever and she'd gone to the trouble of downloading or whatever to get this for me. She listened to me.

"I just figured, since you always talk about Kurt Cobain, it might be nice to have it over here, as well as at your place…" she trailed, and I realised suddenly and with a stab of fear that she might be fishing for an invite. I suppose she must find it weird that I never invite her over, but it's not like I can tell her the truth, and even if things weren't the way they were, there's no way I'd bring her light into a house with Constance. No way.

"Nah, my house is shit. You're room's much cooler," I replied, distracting her with a press of my lips to her neck and arms round her waist. She sighed, though I wasn't sure whether it was because I'd shot her down or because of the way I made her feel. I'm going to say it's the latter, either way.

"Okay. Want to watch some videos?" She asked me, and I nodded against her. She latched onto my sleeve and pulled me to the bed. I wriggled up against her, fitting my arm snuggly between her lower back and the headboard of the bed. She pulled her computer onto her lap and scrolled through a list of films.

"What do you want to watch?" I asked, hoping she'd just pick something because I hadn't heard of any of the films on the list.

"I haven't seen Kick Ass in a while, want to watch that?" She asked and I nodded, pretending like I had an opinion that was valid, at all. As the light left the sky and the room became gradually more and more dark, Violet watched the film and I watched Violet, content to look at her forever.


	11. Home Invasion

I decided, since Dr Harmon had suspiciously left town to return to Boston for the weekend, that I would give Violet some time with her mother. I know she feels neglected by her, because she's so wrapped up in her husband and her miscarriage and her desperate attempt at keeping the family together that she forgets she has a daughter at all. I decided to just wait it out in the basement, until Violet went to bed and I could throw stones at her window like a juvenile delinquent and make her smile. The sound of the doorbell ringing made me frown, because the Harmon's didn't have any frequent visitors and if this was one of the other ghosts fucking with them there would be hell to pay. I didn't want to intrude, plus, it would be difficult to explain my presence when I'd told Violet I couldn't see her until late. I listened to the muffled voices of her mother and another woman through the floorboards, but it was frustrating because everything sounded underwater and I couldn't catch what the conversation was about. I heard Violet's voice, too, and despite the barrier of the floorboards above me, I could catch the biting edge to her words and it made me smile. It was when I heard Vivien shout, loud and panicked, that I realised I needed to be up there. If there was even a slight chance she was in danger, I had to be up there.

I located her, running through the hall towards the kitchen, and materialised in a utility room just before the door. I'd timed it perfectly, reaching out to yank her into the room with a hand on her mouth. She struggled, putting up a weak fight that was all she had in her. It made me proud of her, my fierce Violet. Recognition widened her eyes at my face and I pulled my hand away from her mouth.

"Tate, they're trying to kill me and my mom," her breathing was laboured and panic shook her voice, and I would purge the filth that had dared make her fear anything but me.

"You have to get them to the basement." I didn't want to use her to manipulate the situation, but I couldn't kill the intruder in front of her and her mother. She'd forgiven me for the incident in the basement with Leah, but I think murder might just sway her away from me… if she had any sense at all.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She asked, and I sighed quickly, a harsh puff of air through my lips. I couldn't explain now, we were running out of time.

"The basement! Just do it." I pushed her against the wall and melded into the shadow opposite, just as the footsteps in the hall stopped at the door and a woman appeared, reaching forward to pull Violet away from me. I had faith in Violet, she'd get the bitch in the basement, and I'd take care of the rest. I stormed round the basement, trying my best to focus on the two ghosts to whom this would be the most relevant, but they were already there, poised, waiting, anticipating. The bathtub that had been thrown out years ago was back, an illusion of pains passed, as the confused young women stood either side, faces clouded with the anguish of the injustice they had suffered and never recovered from.

"They're just like him." I said, and they nodded in unison. I dipped my head once, gesturing silently upwards.

"Look what he did to me," one said, her eyes fixing on the tub and the soupy, crimson liquid congealing on the porcelain.

"He'll pay. I'll get them here, and they'll all pay for what they did to you… for what they want to do to Violet." The girls faces' were vacant again, no longer focused on me because they didn't understand, too stuck in the past to find anything but their suffering relevant. I was getting nervous. It was so quiet, they weren't on the ground floor anymore. I slipped upstairs and into Violet's room, noticing another intruder, also female, wandering the halls. I grit my teeth because it just became a little more complicated, but I could make it work. I glided past her, deadly and invisible, coming to stand in the doorway to the bathroom. Violet was wearing a nurses outfit, and I let my subconscious brand that image on my brain before taking in the rest of the scene. The woman from downstairs was filling the bathtub with water, looking at her watch every so often. I was prepared to step in here, if Violet hadn't come up with something, because there was no way I was letting her get anywhere near real danger. I heard a crash from downstairs and remembered Violet's mother. Completely torn, I launched myself to the stairs to check on her, just as she smashed something heavy into a man's head. She was doing okay, then. When I hit the bathroom again, Violet was laughing. It was a fake sound, but it could only be a good thing.

"What's funny," the bitch was looking at her expectantly, and I tried to fill in the gaps as to what I'd missed. "Is that you think you know _everything_ about this house." I think I'd caught on to her plan. "Actually, you know nothing. This isn't even the right tub." The woman took a step back, jerking her head in surprise.

"Second floor bathroom, I studied the crime scene photos." Violet rolled her eyes and folded her arms, the picture of nonchalance.

"The one he used is in the basement." Clever girl. "We totally remodelled this bathroom."

"You think I'm gunna fall for that?" Her voice was pitching higher and higher, panicking. Violet gestured to the clean, white finish on the basins.

"It's a grimy, claw foot tub, with a ground faucet." The confidence with which Violet spoke, coupled with the accuracy of her description, swayed the woman, who grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the tub. She bashed her ankle and if we hadn't been in such a rush, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself breaking a few bones in retribution.

"Bianca!" The woman yelled, and I remembered the other woman roaming the hall. I couldn't have Violet outnumbered, it wasn't safe. She was making her way to the bathroom, and I shadowed in front of her. She followed, disorientated, and I wondered what had happened to her. She followed flickers of me round the half-filled basin and I considered drowning her before deciding she deserved worse. I stepped heavily behind her, waiting for her to begin to turn around before I lodged an axe in her stomach, relishing the heavy, meaty feeling of flesh and sinew and bone cracking and tearing under my blade. She looked down in shock, and then back at me, but her eyes were clouded with death and she looked through me as much as at me, dropping to the floor and convulsing. She wouldn't survive this, so I dropped into the basement, moments before Violet and the woman finally made their way to the door above.

In the basement again, the nurse-ghosts were still there, stationary, but at the sound of the basement door opening in an all-too-human way they disappeared, though I could feel their presence. Echoing down the basement steps I knew Violet was there, and I knew she'd be safe now she was here. Nora would take her.

"You better not be messing with me." The woman's voice was harsh and cold, and it made me grit my teeth.

"It's down here. Around the corner." Charles killed the lights and Violet stepped out, as Nora took her hand and led her back around to the steps, safely behind the invader.

"Where are you?" The woman shrieked, panicked now. She swerved around and around, incapacitated by the darkness. I was so used to the darkness I barely noticed the difference, but the advantage was nice.

"Over here, you stupid bitch!" I shouted from around the corner, repressing a sigh of impatience at her stumbled, unsure progress around the corner. The light flickered on over the tub, and she walked forward with more confidence now.

"I've already filled it with water for you." My voice was emotionless, this was not my fight and I would not take her life. The drowned nurse rose out of the tub, eyes boring into those of the intruder, who screamed and stumbled back. With one look at the nurse-ghost behind her, I left the basement, to make sure Violet and her mother had found each other and had found safety, because I wasn't sure that the male was dead, not sure that Vivien had it in her to beat someone's skull in far enough to be fatal. The screams outside drew me to the window, where Violet and Vivien ran down the sidewalk, and I breathed a sigh of relief, because all the danger was in this house.

It was only minutes after Violet and her mother had left that the cocksucker left her house, pacing gracefully down the sidewalk and up the path to the house. She pushed the open door wide and stepped in, calling my name. I didn't want to answer her, so I went to the basement, knowing she would come soon enough. Moira was standing already, head cocked to the side as she looked at the corpses of the man and the woman, marred and crumpled beside the tub. There was no emotion on her face, and there was no emotion on mine, because that's what this house does to you. It cheapens mortality and makes you lose all concept of the sanctity of life. I could smell her perfume before she appeared between us, and I felt my body tense automatically from her proximity.

"Jesus H Christ. Was this your handiwork?" I knew she was talking to me, though I didn't want to answer her.

A simple, sharp, "No," was all I managed.

"It was them." Moira gestured to the tub, and the cocksucker understood, knowing the story as well as anyone who had lived here.

"We have to get rid of the bodies, if you want him to keep treating me." My voice was a monotone, because I didn't care about Dr Harmon, only Violet. The trauma of seeing these bodies might taint the light in her I was trying so desperately to preserve.

Moira nodded, glancing at Constance out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll get the shovel. You get the bleach." I stood whilst the women worked, watching them clean up the mess and only helping when the bodies were too heavy for the frail pair to transport. The basement was too cold and too full of bad memories, the house was alive with the buzz of life so recently extinguished, and I hated it all. Violet didn't return to the house that night, not that I expected her to. I hoped she was somewhere safe, and I hoped she was thinking of me. I crept up to her bedroom, curling myself into her sheets and nuzzling her pillows with my nose because they smelt like her and I could pretend, eyes closed, that she was next to me, and I was watching over her.

Though I didn't sleep, the peace in Violet's bedroom was a welcome change from the unnatural thrum of the ghosts in the house, and the pulse of the house itself, alive with the parasitic infection of which Violet would never become a part. Though I was pleased she was safe away from here, I couldn't help the little lift of hope I felt when the front door opened downstairs. I padded silently down the steps, unseen by Dr Harmon, Mrs Harmon, and an array of police officers. They swarmed the house, swabbing the blood on the walls upstairs and the discarded nurses outfits and the chipped, ceramic bowl Vivien had used on the man before the nurse-ghosts had their way with him.

Official-looking detectives led the Harmon's into the dining room and shut the door. I would have listened, but I was worried. Violet hadn't arrived yet. I watched the door for along moment before shifting to the front yard, to look up and down the street in case she was hiding out. I felt my face drop into a pout at the empty porch, but the faint scent of fresh cigarettes had me darting round the side of the house to Violet's favourite hiding place. She was propped against the wall, a cigarette hanging from her lips and her gaze on the floor. I hopped onto the little ledge opposite her, and she looked up, smiling. She drew the stick from her mouth and stepped forward, stubbing it out next to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. I pulled her close to me, pressing my face into her hair and relishing the feeling of her pliant flesh under my hands and against my torso.

"I was worried about you, where did you go last night?" She asked, pulling back to meet my eyes with her own.

"I slipped out the basement after they did, I guess they realised you escaped and chickened out," I shrugged, and she bit her lip. I don't think she believed me, but she smiled, tight, and leaned up to peck my lips.

"Well I'm just glad you're safe." She stated firmly again, and I smiled, grateful that she'd allowed me my lie.

"I'm glad you're safe too. And your mom?" I phrased it like a question, though I knew she was okay, too.

"Yeah, she's a little freaked out, but she's okay." I nodded, taking her hand in mine.

"Violet?" Dr Harmon's voice called from the front door, and Violet pushed away from me.

"I should go, don't want him to catch you round here," she rolled her eyes.

"Hey, this place is swarming with cops, what's he gunna do?" I smirked and she grinned.

"Let's not push him. I'll see you later," she stroked my face once, wistfully, and turned, back into the house to find her father. I followed, invisible again, because I was too curious as to what he wanted. Dr Harmon had cornered led her into the dining room, where Vivien was already seated. I followed, an invisible fly on the wall on the opposite side of the room. The police officers had disappeared.

"Violet, your mom said that you told her that Tate, helped you escape?" She shrugged, and I wriggled a little uncomfortably. I guess I'd find out how she really felt about my involvement last night.

"Yeah. Thanks for not dragging him in to all that." I smiled. She was worried about me.

"What was he doing in the house?" I chewed my bottom lip.

"How should I know?" Violet folded her arms and scowled, confrontational in, what I hoped, was my defence.

"Violet…" Dr Harmon was obviously uncomfortable with the idea of me in the house. I guess he thought we were still secretly seeing each other. I smirked guiltily.

"You think I let him in? I don't know why Tate was here. But I'm glad he was. You weren't." The accusation was clear in his voice, and it silenced Dr Harmon because he _knew_ she was right. He hadn't been there to protect his family, and he owed me. I slipped from the room, knowing the conversation was over as Violet left the room, because I had no need to be anywhere she wasn't. I dropped to the basement again, ready to wait out the day so I could see Violet tonight again.


	12. Women

**A/N: Sorry for this being so short, but I promise I'll make up for it very, very soon. Don't lose patience with me, I promise it'll be worth it when I get my flair back!**

"So, thanks for not ratting me out," I stated to the ceiling. We were draped across her bed, Nirvana wailing quietly out of her speakers and candles burning low.

"I don't think it would go down so well anyway." She shrugged, jostling the bed a little and ruffling the sheets. I rolled onto my stomach, propping up on my elbows. I let my hair fall into my eyes and her hand came up to push my hair away from my face.

"You're mom wants to move out." I knew it had to come up one way or another, so this seemed like as good a time as any.

"I know. We can still see each other though, right?" She sat up, legs crossed, and dropped her hand to my knee, fingering the fraying fabric.

"No," I mumbled and she sighed, pegging me to be nothing but a stubborn child.

She crawled her way into my lap, pushing my hands off my thighs and locking her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. I relaxed into her gentle touch, letting the tension in my spine roll out and up. She pulled, suddenly, bringing stinging tears to my eyes and jerking my head back. She licked a harsh line up my neck with a pointed, pulsing tongue and I felt myself whimper.

"I'm not going," she nibbled along my jaw line and I bucked against her. "Anywhere." She finished, sucking my lower lip between both of hers and clamping her teeth into the flesh. I pushed my fingers into her hips and rolled up against her, rutting against her core. Her head lolled back in pleasure as her fingers dragged down my neck sharply.

"Violet," I groaned her name as her fingers pulled my shirt up and over my head. She slipped off my lap to gently push me back against the mattress, trailing her finger nails gently down my chest and connecting her mouth to my nipple.

"Oh!" I let out a shaky breath at the sensation and bucked again, though I bucked into nothing as she was carefully positioned so as not to touch me anywhere but where she wanted. She was in control and I was loving this side of her, the one I thought would take years to coax out. She teased her way down my torso with teeth and tongue and the lightest of touches and frictions.

"I want to make you feel good," she mumbled, and I was pleased to see she was as breathless as I was, as excited as I was.

"You are… God Violet, you are," I managed, clamping my teeth on my bottom lip to stop anything embarrassing from coming out. She trailed her fingers lightly across my lower stomach, before raking her nails harshly through the wispy hair leading into my jeans. She bent to kiss down the harsh lines she'd drawn, before popping the button and dragging down my zipper with one, smooth hand. I wondered where she'd gotten the practice, and felt my mind blaze with irrational jealousy at the mere thought of her with anyone else. But of course, she hadn't been. She was mine, and she was here with me and no one else and that's all that mattered right now. I lifted my hips in co-operation and she slid my jeans to my ankles before discarding them altogether and slipping up my body again. She pressed her hot palm flat against my growing erection and I groaned, bucking again. She smirked and I knew I was embarrassing myself, but I couldn't find it in me to care with the pleasure coursing through my veins.

"That all for me?" She asked and I forced my eyes open to meet her gaze.

"It's always for you. You make me so hard Violet," she licked her lips, slow and seductive.

"Do I get to open my present then?" She asked and I frowned, my lust-clouded brain not catching on to the metaphor until her hand was in my underwear and gripping me firmly. She used her other hand to pull my boxers off completely, before crouching over me and wrapping her lips around the head of my dick.

"Unghhhhh oh, ahhh," I wailed, bucking my hips at the new sensation that couldn't be more welcome. She pulled off with a pop.

"I want you to tell me how it feels, Tate," she smiled, sexy and slow, before lowering her mouth down again and licking up the side of the shaft like it was a fucking ice cream. I whimpered as she continued her torture, before her mouth disappeared altogether.

"Viiiiiiolet-" I groaned.

"You're not doing what I told you to, Tate." She quirked up an eyebrow and I punched the mattress beside me in frustration.

"Okay, okay, I will, just… put your pretty fucking mouth back on my dick before I die." The seriousness in my tone made her giggle, but I wasn't joking. I thought I was genuinely going to explode. She nodded, stifling the last laugh before dropping again and sliding me right to the back of her throat. When I felt her contracting around the tip I thought that nothing in the world would ever feel this way. Nothing. And I remembered the heat and the weight of sliding into _her,_ not as slick but still satisfying as I pushed in and out, in and out. And I couldn't do this anymore. I was in the basement before I'd realised what had happened, and before I knew the gravity of what I'd done. I'd disappeared, from underneath Violet, conscious. She'd seen, or rather not seen, me disappear.

I'd banished myself to the basement during my first blowjob because the way it had felt reminded me of raping her mother. Thankfully my dick had gone limp from the trauma but I was forced to relive the memories, much too graphic already. To make matters worse, I'd left my clothes in Violet's room. I slipped against her wall silently and unseen, but I'd rather I'd stayed naked. She was curled up on the bed, clutching my shirt and crying. Crying! My Violet. I'd upset her. She was confused, that's for sure, because it's really not every day someone disappears in front of you. She'd been trying so hard to be sexy for me, I knew, and she was succeeding more than she could ever know, but I hadn't reassured her of that, at all. She'd probably hate me now. So she should. But I'd hurt her, bad. Though not as bad as I could have.

A flicker of something panicked flashed into her eyes and her hands tightened on my arms, putting up the lightest of resistance as she tried to push me off her. But this wasn't about her and it wasn't about me. I could see Nora in the doorway, an unreadable expression on her face. This isn't how she'd wanted it, but she was all double-standards and I was becoming desperate. I could never get away from the sound of her crying, no matter where in the house I was. I grit my teeth and closed my eyes and thought about anything but the task at hand. My mind flew to Violet as it always did when I was aroused, but I forced her from my mind. She was better than this, I would not tarnish what she was with this. I felt myself finish, but my mind was not with the act anymore, because it would ruin everything.

My eyes were not blue. That's what tipped her off, and I was glad. I wanted her to know. A part of me wanted her to know and to leave and to never come back, because Violet deserved better than this house and the baby was never going to be Nora's. It would be hers, this woman, this natural born mother. I pulled out without emotion, leaving the room and leaving her shaking, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she lay motionless. I pummelled my fist into the wall, feeling my knuckles crumble before the wall does, because my heart isn't in it.

"I spoil everything." I screamed, and she came to me as she always does, whether she knows why she does it or not. Her cool hand on my face brings my gaze to hers, but I find myself loathing her, seeing red because she is the reason I will be alone forever.

"Why do you cry?" She asked, her voice gentle. I pushed her hand away and stepped closer into her personal space, towering her with a menacing expression.

"You ruin everything, Nora. I wanted you to be my mother. I would have done anything to make you happy. What makes you happy? It will never be me." I ended more miserably than I'd began, having lost the conviction of my anger in the face of her disappointment. Constance wanted me perfect, and Nora didn't want me at all. Violet wanted me, but she wouldn't if she knew.

"My baby…" I glanced up, hopeful, but her eyes were glazed and she wasn't looking at me anymore. I wasn't her baby. I was a tool for her to use to get what she wanted, as I had always been to everyone. Violet didn't use me.

"Where is my baby?" she asked, her voice cracking into sobs.

"I promised you I'd get you one." I grit my teeth and kept my voice level, determined not to let her see the child threatening to cry and scream and beg for attention inside me.

"Yes… you made me one, with the lady of the house."

"I did. And you will get that baby. But I will never speak to you again, because this has been my undoing." The smile dropped from her face as she took in my words and the darkness lacing my features.

"Tate," she whispered, and I knew she was remembering, little snippets of the years we had known each other, and I hope she felt guilty for the pain she was causing.

"Go away, Nora." I said, tone level and emotionless. She disappeared from in front of me and I curled onto the floor, into myself, and waited for the light to fade outside the window so I could sneak into Violet's room, retrieve my clothes and watch over her until tomorrow.


	13. No Questions

**A/N: I'm sorry this is short, but I was trying to follow the episodic structure with this one and there's not a whole bunch of Tate and Violet scenes it. I promise the next one will be much longer though! **

She seemed much calmer this morning, the tears had dried on her cheeks and her eyes were dead. I followed her, as close as her shadow and twice as menacing, as she went about her morning routine. I forced myself to stop at the close of the bathroom door, because I owed her the dignity to shower without being watched.

I heard the water shut off and ran my fingers through my fringe, straightening out my ruffled clothes and making myself presentable despite the fact that she couldn't see me. I wanted to look nice for her even when she couldn't look at me at all. She emerged in a cloud of scented steam, already dressed, much to my disappointment and relief, because I wanted to see her naked and I didn't know if I could control myself if she were. I would make her happy, even if that meant staying away from her. I lasted until lunch. She was perched on the wall around the front door, smoking a cigarette and staring into the distance. I wanted to be inside her, head, it would probably be far more interesting than anyone else's, and far less disturbing than mine. I was working up the courage to appear to her, ready to recite the speech of explanation I'd been rehearsing all night, when she jumped, swore under her breath and stubbed out her cigarette, raking it across the brickwork and covering it with her shoe. Ben rounded the corner and stopped to the side of her.

"Relax," he smiled, holding his hands up, "I'm not here to bust you." She frowned, and then smiled.

"Why not?" This was new to her, but she didn't like it. One thing I'd noticed about Violet, was that she didn't like being treated differently, and Ben and Vivien had been sidestepping around her since the home invasion.

"What you guys went through last week," he began, apprehension in his tone because he thought there was a good chance she'd snap at him. My fierce girl.

She rolled her eyes, as if to punctuate my point. "Seriously dad, I'm fine. It'll make a great college essay one day," she smiled and he smiled, because she was slowly reassuring him through pleasantries and witty smirks that she was fine, when she was absolutely, positively not.

"Okay, but if you ever wanna talk to somebody…" she cut him off quickly, no longer feeling patient.

"Dad," she interjected, and he held his hands up in surrender.

"I mean, not me, y'know, I'm way too expensive," He laughed and she managed a little chuckle, easing some of the tension that had been ever present between them since he ruined her family and shattered her illusions of a happy family. "But we can find you someone," his tone was more serious now, and her face smoothed out to match his. She was a perfect actress, and it made the vulnerable little part of me wonder if she'd ever turned on her acting skills when she was with me.

"Yeah, thanks, I'll think about it." She nodded and he nodded and they both nodded for the same reason. There wasn't anything left between them, and Ben didn't know his daughter. He placed a hand on her knee, patting reassuringly before turning to leave. When I heard the back door slam I slipped around the wall and, glancing back as though I thought I could get caught, pulled a little face at her.

I don't know why I decided to abandon my angle and not grovel, but I guess what I did do wasn't too unacceptable to her.

"He's a great dad." She gave me a withering look, but I stood my ground. "He really cares." I don't know why I was saying this, because I wasn't sure if I really believed it myself. But he did love Violet. He may be a shitty husband and a nasty guy, but he did love Violet. He loved her enough to still be here, anyway, which is more than I can ever say for my own father. "You're lucky like that," I added, and I know she knew what I meant. She looked down, plucking a cigarette from the opened packet and lifting it to her lips. I grabbed for her lighter before she could, and she leaned forward to let me light it, keeping eye contact as we sized each other up, predator and prey. I smiled, pleased that she was committing to my game, and the smirk she gave me in response made me question who was who in our cat and mouse game.

"So, you pussied out the other day." She blew a plume of smoke into the air and followed it's tendrils with her eyes, swiping her fingers through the curls and changing them into the shapes she wanted them to be.

"I guess so. It wasn't so simple as that," I pushed myself against the base column of the wall, mirroring her position but staying a distance away from her, cautiously.

"You don't need to justify anything to me, Tate." She met my eyes steadily. In that gaze I knew she was assuring me of a variety of things. She didn't need me to tell her how I'd disappeared, or why. The fact that I was here, now, was enough. It wouldn't always be, but for now we could continue on as we were.

"Thank you. For the record though, it wasn't you." She smirked and rolled her eyes, her hair flicking over her shoulder and exposing the milky length of her neck, curving around her collar bone.

"Oh, sure," she scoffed, "I'm a total sex kitten." I knew she was joking, but she was right.

"Violet," I pushed myself off the wall and walked around to the side of her, resting my elbows on the wall and leaning my face against her knee. "You are. You're the only girl who does it for me." She couldn't ignore the sincerity in my voice, especially if the tell-tale blush across her cheeks meant anything. She flicked the butt of her cigarette away and knotted her fingers into my hair, the pads of each scraping my scalp. I hummed appreciatively, turning my head a little to press a kiss to her cotton clad thigh.

Violet had gone to school, and I had nothing to do. It was a nice day, Ben and Vivien had gone out to do god knows what, so all those who remain were milling around the grounds. Marcie, the fucking bitch of a realtor chained to this house in a more metaphoric sense than I was, had just pulled up against the curb. She pushed open the wrought iron gates that were always closed but never locked, a brand new 'For Sale' sign under her arm. I was furious. I understood that Vivien hated it here, and that it made her feel insecure and scared. I wanted her gone, because she was just an obstacle. Violet still cared about her, in a way she no longer cared for her father… In a way that could challenge even our relationship. I wanted her to go, live in her shitty studio apartment or whatever, but she couldn't take Violet away with her. I was standing at the window, watching her struggle with the new sign, when I saw the cocksucker walking her dogs on the other side of the street. She came quickly across the street and stopped outside the gate, looking straight up at me and smiling. The upturned corners of her lips were cautious and innocent, and her face made my blood boil and my skin crawl. She raised her hand in a little, waving gesture, her cigarette hanging limply between her withered fingers in a way that was repulsive, and nothing like Violet. I stepped backwards into the shadows before turning away from the window and making my way back into Violet's room to wait out the day.


	14. Trust

**A/N: Sorry this is a little late coming to you guys, but it's double the length of what I usually post and the next chapter will be just as long, I promise!**

Larry came round the house today. It gave me a certain satisfaction to see how difficult it was for him to walk, he's so mutilated on one side and his hand is curled against him, useless. He was talking to Ben and Ben looked pissed off, and it made me nervous. If that stupid fuck has something on Dr Harmon, Violet could be in danger. Or worse, Violet could find out about what happened in 94, all of it, and I'm not sure she loves me yet. I nibbled my bottom lip between my teeth, thoughtful as I settled myself on the couch in Dr Harmon's office and put on my best angst-ridden teen persona.

Dr Harmon settled himself into the chair opposite me and gave me a long look. I stared back expectantly.

"I've agreed to this meeting because we need to clarify a few things." I nodded in agreement, knotting my fingers together. "Firstly the psychiatrist I recommended to you, Dr Goldwin, said you never showed up for the first appointment, and you never called to cancel." I was afraid of this, there wasn't really an easy way to explain why I simply couldn't see anyone who operated off the premises.

"Well I don't wanna see anyone but you." I knew I sounded petulant, but I didn't care. I had to make him think I was just a moody kid, a difficult kid, so he'd think I was harmless.

"We've discussed why that won't work. Which brings me to my next question. We're very grateful to you Tate, for how you helped my family but you need to explain, here and now, what you were doing in this house at the time of the break-in." I knew this one was coming, so I'd spent hours meticulously formulating my alibi before the session, testing it out on Moira who, though she hated me, knew Dr Harmon could not know the secret of this house, not yet.

I sighed, mashing my lips together as though it were taking a great deal of effort to confess. "The truth is, I was just like hanging around outside and I was…" I smiled, ruefully, "I was throwing pebbles at her window, but she blew me off, and then, and then uh I noticed that the door was unlocked so I… went inside. That's not cool, I know…"

"I understand, but this is why I can't treat you. It's inappropriate for everyone concerned." He had a point, I knew that he did, because if it were my family I'd do the same. Can't have head-cases wandering in and out of the house whenever they pleased, right?

"I really need your help." I made my voice break with unshed tears, and Dr Harmon diverted his gaze to the floor, clearly embarrassed for me… or maybe just sympathetic. "I don't wanna be like this. I wanna be a good person, and I know that you can help me. You're the one, okay, you're the only one that I can trust." I caught his gaze and held it, willing him to believe the sincerity and innocence I'd fabricated.

"I cannot," he pressed, "see you in this house." I was losing him, and the thought of it made me cry. I just had to think of losing Violet, of her not wanting to see me, of her choosing her father over me, and the tears sprung to my eyes and slipped down my cheeks. He sighed, and I felt a little glimmer of hope. "Now look I have an opening. I'll meet you someplace for coffee but you have to promise-"

"I promise you, promise, no more weird shit, okay?" I stammered quickly, absolutely elated at the fact that he would still see me. I know meeting him away from the house for coffee wouldn't happen more than once, but it might be enough to see me in a normal environment, interacting with normal people, to decide I'm not such a danger.

"Okay. There's a park a few blocks up from here. I take my wife's dog up there sometimes. I'll meet you there tomorrow. I know it's Halloween, but if you're serious about this, then-"

"No, no! I don't really go in for the Halloween thing anyway. I'll be there. When?"

"Let's say," he consulted his diary and tapped his pen on the page thoughtfully. "One pm?"

"Sounds great. Thank you, Dr Harmon, thanks so much." I beamed at him, knowing how charismatic I was when I smiled, and he offered a little, tight lipped smile in return. I skipped out the room and down to the basement, not even caring that I'd be stuck down there for hours, until it was an acceptable time to meet Violet again.

After hours of being alone with my thoughts, I heard the front door open and close, and footsteps pace across the hall and up the stairs. I felt my face stretch into a smile at the thought of seeing Violet again, and the relief I felt at the fact she was safe in the house again and away from the shit of high school made me feel physically drained. Worrying about Violet was a full-time occupation these days.

I'm pretty sure I heard Addie's voice coming from Violet's room a few minutes later, but I didn't want to intrude. Mostly because I was scared Addie would say something that would blow my cover, she's kind of naive to a lot of the shit that happens around here and I couldn't be too careful, not when Violet was still so far from being truly mine. But I'd told Addie all about Violet, on a long, warm day when Violet was at school and Addie would actually listen to me, when the others in the house either wouldn't talk to me or didn't care about her. Addie cared though, she told me she thought Violet was a pretty girl and I said she was, of course she was, she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. I think she liked that, because she giggled and hugged me and I cursed the family she'd been born into as I had so many times during the pleasant, simple visits with my sister. Halloween was approaching so fast now, I had to convince Violet to go away with me. I was a little worried she was still freaking out, and that leaving her house to go into the world with me would scare her, so I needed to make sure she know how I felt about her, for real, before I asked her out like a normal teenage boy would.

Addie left and I slipped silently into Violet's room. She was reading a book and listening to music and didn't seem to be having a nervous breakdown, so I guessed Addie hadn't told her anything that would scare the shit out of her, and that meant we were on for a little rendezvous tonight. I snatched some candles from the cabinet under the sink in the kitchen and arranged them carefully on the floor, along with a bunch of creepy shit I found in the attic. At 12 'o' clock exactly, the basement door above me creaked open, and I could hear the slight labouring of her breathing from my position, crouched against the wall in the very darkest part of the room.

"Tate?" She took a few steps further down into the basement, peering around in the dark. "Tate? You said you wanted to meet at midnight…" She sighed, a little frown creasing her forehead at my apparent absence. She looked so small and vulnerable there, I almost thought about changing my plans. I wanted to scare her, but I wasn't so sure she could take it anymore. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." She crooned and I smirked. Oh no, she was so asking for this. I launched myself out of the corner and slipped a hand around her waist, slamming a hand against her mouth without hurting her. She struggled, and though I could tell she was giving it her all, she was weak in comparison to me. She needed someone to take care of her, and I would. I shoved her against the staircase wall, and she made a little squeaky sound against my hand, vibrating my palm. The terror in her eyes was a turn on, but the little crease of anger and indignation between her eyebrows made me laugh. It was an uncontrollable spasm, shaking my body and erupting from my throat. Realisation dawned on her as I pulled away, unzipping the back of my mask and pulling it off, shaking my curls loose.

"You asshole!" She sighed, shoving against my chest, but she wasn't pushing hard because she was a little bit impressed by my move. Violet admired guts, and I certainly wasn't lacking.

"I scared you." I teased and she scoffed.

"No you didn't. where did you get this thing? My dad threw it out." She'd changed the subject because I'd rattled her, but I let it go because she looked so sexy when she was mad.

"Finders keepers." I muttered, leaning forward and over her to push my lips against her, passionately. She was so beautiful. The kiss was soft and chaste, I kept the passion and the fire buried in me because she wasn't ready, even if she thought she was. "Really, I didn't scare you?" I added just the right amount of disappointment to my tone to placate her, though I already knew I'd scared her.

"I said no." She was blunt and left it at that, so I figured it was time to move on so she'd warm up to me.

I looked at the floor, and then met her eyes. "I bet I can." She rose an eyebrow in a challenge, and I bounded off into the depths of the basement. "Give me like, five minutes," I called over my shoulder, going to change into the clothes I'd stashed. When I returned in semi-normal attire, I knelt to light the candles I'd placed earlier, feeling Violet's eyes on my back as she leaned against the wall by the bottom step of the basement. I got up, taking her hands in mine and pulling her over to the little pillars of light I'd built for her.

"You have to put your fingers on the other side." I said, gesturing to the opposite side of the Ouija board.

"I don't believe in that shit." Her words were harsh, but she was smiling.

"Charles is gunna answer all your questions," I set up the board, pausing to flash her a grin, "he used to live here."

"Is Charles going to tell me what happened to those assholes who tried to kill us? What did you do to them?" I felt my blood run cold and prickling pain in my scalp. My expression became serious.

"I told you, I didn't do anything. I had some help." I smiled at her, and took her hand. She let me place her finger on the board, and even left them there when I took my hands away from hers and placed my fingers on the board opposite her.

"What's in this basement? I want the truth." Her voice was so certain, but I knew she wouldn't believe what I had to say anyway, so I may as well tell her the most significant story of this house, and tell it like a scary story.

"What I'm about to tell you might scare you… to death!" I bugged my eyes out and she rolled hers.

"I can take it." She smirked and I nodded, leaning forward to kiss her.

"I know," I whispered, pressing my lips gently against hers from across the flames.

"Dr Charles Montgomery built this house, and here, in this basement, is where he worked. Charles was a doctor to the stars, but he was also a drug addict, and his wife Nora wasn't going to let that get in the way of her lifestyle." I stood up, gesturing around the room and recreating the scene in my mind as I had so many times before when holed up in this basement. "So she set up a little secret side business. He would take care of girls who didn't wanna be in trouble anymore. This went on and on until one day, one girl couldn't keep the secret to herself, and she told her boyfriend what happened." It was only now that I began to realise how insensitive my scary story might seem. Violet had lost a sibling via miscarriage, and that wasn't so long ago, either. I was contemplating this, wondering if it was too late to stop my thought process, but her wide, doe-like eyes encouraged me. I remember the way Charles had explained it, and I summarised for her because she wasn't inside my head. "Nora answered the phone one night, and the caller said 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth'. Nora began to rebuke the caller, but they hung up. She was puzzled for a moment, until it all… clicked… into… place." I shook my head and she rolled her eyes again, but I could tell she was interested because she was still looking at me expectantly. "Nora dropped the phone, running upstairs on a hunch. As she'd feared, the cradle was empty as she called for her husband, the window was open and someone had taken her son. Mr and Mrs Montgomery waited for the ransom demands, but they never came. A knock on the door several days later delivered the body of their baby boy in an assortment of jars, just like an abortion but a thousand times more gruesome. Overcome with grief, the doctor locked himself in the basement, attempting to cheat death and bring the baby back to life. But what he created was monstrous and ungodly, and even after their untimely end the creature remained, in this basement, to this day." I stopped, my face stony, and looked at her. Her face was filled with wonder, eyes unnaturally wide.

"Oh my god," I smiled in triumph. "You are so full of shit. I don't believe a word that's come out of your mouth. Forget it, forget I ever asked." I felt my face fall and I could only watch, helpless, as she got up and came towards me. I caught her wrist as she passed, and she spun to face me.

I didn't know how to deal with this side of Violet, girls were never my forte and I couldn't understand where her frustration was coming from. What had I done? I sat in front of the candles again, searching their bright depths for some answers, clues as to what I could do to make her happy. There was silence for a moment, before I heard her sigh and take a step in my direction again.

"And I'm tired, that we keep hanging out in this dark, dank place. Why can't we go somewhere? Like, on a real date." It clicked in my head, now, what she was upset about. It made me feel kind of good about myself to know I'd made her feel regular, teenage girl emotions, and I was absolutely thrilled that she considered us enough of an item to be going on a 'real date'. I pondered for a moment over how I could make it happen for her, seeing as I was chained to this stupid house. It was Halloween. Luck was finally on my side because it was fucking Halloween.

"Alright," I smiled, a plan forming as I got up and took her hands in mine again. She leaned into me subconsciously and I relished the fact that she felt the pull as strong as I did. "Tomorrow night, we'll go out. Her face broke into a grin and I smiled, glad to have earned a little of her approval. Footfalls on the floorboards from high above us alerted me to the fact that I was most certainly not supposed to be in the house, and I most certainly should not be seeing Violet… Dr Harmon would probably have a heart attack and then I'd be stuck with him and his anger. Oh, and Violet might be a bit sad, then.

"Your father agreed to see me again but I'm not supposed to be here." I shook my head and her smile faded, she nodded. She squeezed my hand quickly once, and tugged me towards the edge of the steps.

"Come on, I'll be your lookout." I smiled at her concern and let her lead me up the steps. She darted across to the staircase and I darted to the front door and out into the night, waiting a few minutes until her bedroom light flicked on before reappearing in the basement.

Dr Harmon had agreed to meet me outside of the house, so he'd picked a crowded park to have coffee and talk with me, away from his home. I bet he thought he had it all worked out, so that his daughter was safe from me. Like now I wasn't having therapy there, I'd never go back. He was so deluded sometimes, I couldn't blame Violet for thinking he was a jackass. He'd sent me to pick up the coffee, and I'd been kind of excited to do it in a really sad way, because I wanted to know if I could really still pull of human interaction like I used to when I was so deprived of the living now. But when I'd got to the counter, my face had fallen and the confidence drained out of me, because there were probable ten different fucking flavours, and you could have it cold or hot or with ice in it or without. Who the fuck puts ice in coffee? Or vanilla or caramel or whatever else in it, for that matter. I stared at the board, lost for a moment, but the girl behind the counter tapped on my fingers and I flinched back.

"Can I help you?" She asked, an all too friendly, fake smile I remember from high school plastered across her face.

"Um, 2 coffees, please." I mumbled, regretting the elation I'd felt at coming over here. I didn't want human interaction, it just reminded me how shit the world was.

"Sure, black, white, sugar?" I just stared at her and she smiled.

"Hey, do you go to Westfield? You just look really familiar…" she trailed and I bit my lip.

"Um, no I don't, um, 2 black coffees, please, and some sugar sachet things," I managed, my words tumbling over each other in my haste to get them out and get away from her. How could she have seen my face? After all this time, was I still the dark villain of Westfield? Did they still have my picture someplace, over a list of my crimes? Violet goes to Westfield.

"Coming right up… but are you sure you don't go to Westfield. I'm sure you look familiar."

"My girlfriend goes there. Maybe you've seen me pick her up or something." I shrugged and she looked at me a second longer before nodding.

"Yeah, that's probably it." She went back to making coffee and I sighed inaudibly, hoping that she was shallow and simple enough to leave it at that. And if she did ever see the face of Tate Langdon somewhere, she'd peg it down to a weird coincidence and a slight resemblance, she'd convince herself she imagined how similar we really were, maybe stop watching those cop shows late at night and continue to live her own oblivious life, because the truth… the truth never really bore thinking about. She handed me my drinks and smiled once more, her eyes already swivelling round to the next person in line. I stumbled my way through the crowds of happy, lively people and back to Dr Harmon. I smiled as I placed the coffee's down on the bench counter.

"Wow, there's so many different flavours. It's freaky, I don't know half of them." I grinned at him and he smiled back for a moment, before his eyes flicked down to his portable phone. I glanced up, sensing I wasn't getting much of a light-hearted conversation out of him, and watched a woman pull her son along towards the park exit.

"What did we say? No eating until we inspect them at home!" Her voice was harsh and her grip on the child's arm looked painful. She reminded me of my mother.

Dr Harmon was now facing the park, his phone gone. He was watching a little girl in a witches costume running around. The wistful look on his face was one I recognised instantly

"She reminds you of Violet, doesn't she." Dr Harmon nodded, and I closed my eyes. His expression was one I'd seen in my own reflection every time she left the house, every time she wasn't in my arms.

"She had to be scary. My fierce little girl. Just like her mom. Smart, and beautiful. No need to be like anyone else." I'm pretty sure Dr Harmon was beginning to cry, because he sniffed deeply. "The thing is I was err, I was a troubled kid too. I was kinda like you, Tate. I didn't hold out too much hope for myself, not many other people did either. It was a total shock to everyone including myself when I became a doctor. But somehow I was given this amazing gift of family," he cut himself off, crying more now. His eyes were puffy and his mouth was turned down at the corners, and I felt a teeny tiny bit sorry for him, because he was Violet's father. A shithead, sure, but her father all the same. He pulled a cigarette from a packet with shaking fingers and lit it, pulling in a harsh drag. He'd broken down and I didn't know how to comfort him, but I knew it was important that I did. He needed to trust me a little bit, if I ever wanted him to treat me again. Or, if not, at least maybe warm up to the idea of me with Violet.

"Hey," I tried for a smile, to reassure him, and reached a tentative hand out to place on top of both of his. I patted his hands gently and he looked up at me through hopeful, watery eyes. "It's gunna be okay, Dr Harmon."

"I'm sorry, he gasped, sniffing deeply and sighing. "I'm sorry, Tate," he whispered, shaking his head.

"It's okay," I tried again.

"No, no it's not, Tate. I'm the therapist here. Let's talk about you. I appreciate your concern though, thank you." He smiled shakily at me and I returned it warmly, nodding in understanding. We were in the same situation, really, and we weren't so different as he'd like to imagine.

Larry was back, and he was trying to scare Violet. I'd made Dr Harmon a silent promise, in my head, to look after her, since he obviously didn't think it was important enough to include her in his and Vivien's plans, leaving her all alone in the house on Halloween. I know Larry was trying to scare her, he didn't know she was alone but he was a ruthless, disgusting little man who would take pleasure knowing he was, if he succeeded. Violet had gone white as a sheet and I so desperately wanted to tell her everything was going to be just fine, absolutely fine, but I couldn't explain why I kept miraculously appearing, especially now, when our date was supposed to be happening in like, an hour. Call me sadistic, but I put on that latex suit again, because I liked the way it made me feel naked around her without being naked, and menacing though she couldn't see me. I knew she wouldn't be scared of the suit now, not now she knew it was in my possession, but I had to stay hidden from her. I knew Larry would go away, he was all talk and no balls, especially since he knew I was here, and I'm sure Constance would have mentioned Violet to him, she was so damn proud of me for snagging a girlfriend. I'd have argued that Violet was much more to me than could be described by some bullshit title, but then I reminded myself that I didn't give two shits what she thought about me anymore because I wasn't her perfect son and it'd long stopped being my responsibility to make her proud. God knows it never worked before. So I stood behind her, invisible and right fucking there, ready to materialise if anyone tried to fuck with her before I could take her away from this house in my own skin.


	15. Fireside

I waited for her light to go on before slipping outside to throw pebbles at her window. She appeared in seconds, and her face was calmer, smoother than it had been downstairs. She opened her window and I mouthed 'basement' at her, pointing to the lower room window. She nodded and closed the window again, and I materialised down there to wait for her. It took five minutes before the door creaked upon above me, and I rolled my eyes because she was such a typical girl to take so much time getting ready to move from one room to the next.

"Tate?" She called, as she clattered down the steps. I moved out of the shadows, smiling at her, and I saw her mouth curve upwards in a smile to match my own.

"Hey." We walked toward each other, not stopping until she was pressed against me and her arms had snaked around my waist. I rubbed soothing circles on her back with my free hand, a surprise in the other. I was terrified to give it to her, it seemed silly now to give something so childish to someone so fearless, but I hoped there was enough sentimental teenage girl in her to appreciate it on some level, even if she'd mock me viciously on the outside.

"It's been insane here. First the cops were outside and then some freak started banging on the door screaming about money," she gasped and I was worried she was going to cry.

"Hey, hey, shit like that does tend to go down on Halloween, probably just asshole kids. It's fine now," I dragged my eyes up her face to meet her own. "I'm here." She smiled, and her face looked so innocent that I thought there was no better time to spring my surprise on her. I pulled the delicate flower from behind my back, bunching my hand in my jumper to keep her from seeing the nervous shake to my fingers. I didn't want her to know how vulnerable this simple gesture made me feel. "I painted it black. I know how you don't like normal things." I explained. She glanced down at the black rose in my hand, and back at my face, a small, half embarrassed, half excited smile playing on her face.

"You're the first boy to ever give me a flower." I couldn't believe that, she was so beautiful, but I laughed a little in private satisfaction at being yet another of her firsts, and hopefully, lasts. I would give her a flower every day for the rest of forever if she'd keep smiling at me like I was the only person in the world she cared for. "Thank you, I love it." She added, and my heart dropped into my stomach because I thought she'd said she loved me and the mistake I'd made toyed with my emotions.

"You ready to go on our date?" I asked, half to distract her and half to remind myself that she would love me, soon enough, because she was going out with me. We were a couple.

"Yeah," she nodded, and I smirked and took her hand, pulling her out of the house. The alarm started when we opened the front door.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Leave it?" I whined, pulling her towards the gates.

"My mom's security dude will come, help me shut it off," she said, pulling out of my grip and going to the little alarm panel on the inside of the door. She fiddled with the buttons, lithe fingers tapping skilfully at keys. I didn't understand the new technology, at all, so I just stood behind her, toying with the bottom of her oversized cardigan. The alarm stopped beeping and she sighed, taking a step back into my arms.

"Now can we go?" I asked, nuzzling my face into the back of her neck. She pulled out of my arms and dashed out the door. I groaned in frustration and chased her out the door, pulling it closed behind me. I caught up with her at the gate, taking her hand again. I wanted to pass through these gates into the liberation we would never see together. She glanced up at me and I smiled, leading her towards my favourite place in the world.

"Are you gunna tell me where we're going?" She asked finally, and I chuckled.  
>"So impatient. We're going to the beach." She scoffed.<p>

"The beach?" She asked, and I could tell she wasn't impressed. I felt a sudden need to defend it.

"The beach is my favourite place in the world, Violet. I want to share it with you." She squeezed my fingers in a silent apology and I squeezed back, her offense forgotten as the sound and scent of the sea came into view over the ridges of rock enclosing the bay.

"It's beautiful here," she commented, and I beamed with pride. I tugged her over to the little platform I used to play on, and she sat down and flipped open her cell-phone whilst I climbed the railings, throwing my arms out and my head back as I breathed in the freedom and the fresh air that was only this clean in the ocean. Violet was talking heatedly with someone, and I jumped down to invade her personal space and remind her who she was here with. I wrapped an arm around her back and rested the other on her knee, pushing my face through her hair to kiss up and down her neck

"Okay, alright, bye," she said into the phone, clicking it shut and slipping it into her pocket.

"Who was that?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound nonchalant when I was withering with jealousy that she could want to talk to anyone else, think about anyone else, when she was on a date with me.

My mom," she replied and the relief I felt was palpable.

"Aww," I managed, pressing my lips firmly against hers. Her fingers knotted in my hair and she moved with me, allowing me to lower her onto her back and fall lightly on top of her, my had slipping off her knee and up her thigh.

"Mmm, Tate," she mumbled when we pulled away for air, but I wasn't satisfied that she'd forgotten about everything but me, just yet. I pressed my fingers harshly against her crotch, feeling her pulsing heat through the layers of tights and underwear. She gasped, her eyes widening and boring into mine. She was still a vulnerable little virgin, but her pupils began to blow with lust as I raked my fingers up and down on her crotch, and I knew she was ready for the next level in our relationship.

"Do you want me to? Violet?" I asked, tracing the line of her jaw with my tongue. Her head lolled back and she nodded.

"I need you, Tate. Touch me," she gasped, and I'm sure I'd never heard anything more sexy than that. I pushed my hand beneath the material of her tights, but the restriction of the lycra irritated me.

"Take these off," I ordered, sitting back on my heels to watch her. She sat up in turn, wriggling her tights off her hips and to her ankles where I took over, pinging the tight material away from her feet and exposing her shockingly pale, beautiful legs to me. I pulled her knees apart greedily, desperate to feel more of her. Thoughts of her mother bubbled up, searing against my eyes, but I closed them, banishing the visions. I would not let my past ruin my future, or hers. Violet was all that mattered, and I needed her to feel good. My hesitation had worried her, there was caution in her eyes when I met them again. She was probably remembering the moment I'd disappeared before her eyes, questioning her sanity and my reality. I had to make her see me again, just me and us and nothing else. She was too light to be tainted by what I am. I lowered myself, keeping eye contact until I was level with her crotch. I pressed my lips to the damp fabric of her underwear and she sighed, shaky.

"Can I?" I asked again, though I knew she wanted it. I needed the validation.

"Yes. I want you Tate." Not it, not sex, me. She wanted me. It was precisely what I'd needed to hear and she knew that. If I existed for a thousand years, I would never deserve Violet Harmon. I slipped my thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down, over her knees and off her ankles, before settling myself again. I pressed another kiss to her bare flesh, lapping at her folds before locating her clit and nipping it between my teeth. She let out a desperate little whimper and I moaned against her at the sound, so vulnerable and beautiful.

Her hand came down, gently, to rest on the back of my head, and I knew she wasn't sure whether or not it was okay to hold me to her. I wanted her to be rough with me… I wanted her to pull my hair from the roots. I licked her slowly, gently and barely there and she sighed, her hand pushing my head back to her. I smirked, realising I was making progress, and nipped at her clit again, because it seemed to draw the best reaction from her.

"Tate," she wailed, and I knew what she needed. I pulled away from her, allowing my breath to hit her sensitive flesh.

"Not enough, Violet?" She shook her heads and I ran a finger down through her folds, coating it in the arousal flowing out of her. Her thighs shook and I smiled down at her in satisfaction, sitting up to push her knees apart and give me better access. I rubbed her clit with my thumb, keeping her relaxed, as I slipped my index finger into her. I knew instantly that she'd tried this herself, but probably not more than once or twice, because her face was still contorted in pain but her neck was straining to see with curiosity. I pressed my finger deeper into her, curling it round towards me to hit the spot I knew would make her feel good. She groaned and I bit my lip, working very hard to focus on the task at hand and not to rip my jeans off and fuck her right here.

"Does that feel good, Violet? Do you want it?" I asked, just to hear the sound of her voice when she was this aroused. She nodded, and I ceased the movement inside of her, unsatisfied with her reaction. "You need to tell me, Violet," I growled and she nodded again, bucking desperately against the finger I'd left inside her.

"Feels so good, Tate, so good, please, please. More," she begged and I smiled, leaning over her to place a kiss on her lips.

"Good girl." I whispered against her mouth, twisting my finger inside her and relishing the harsh exhale through her parted lips against mine, before sitting up and adding my middle finger. She moaned again, dropping her head back against the platform, as I pumped my fingers in and out of her at a faster pace, curling them to hit the spot that would make her cry out every now and then, when she made a sound I found particularly appealing and therefore worthy of reward.

"Tate, I, it's different," she gasped and I nodded.

"You're going to come, Violet. I want you to come for me, and I want you to say my name," I managed through gritted teeth. She nodded, her eyes wide and wild with the sensations she was experiencing. Her walls began to flutter and tense around my fingers and I pushed harder, deeper and faster, barely pulling out at all before slamming back in, feeling her orgasm wrack through her. Violet's eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth opened and closed, unable to form words. That's not what I wanted.

"Violet…" I purred and her eyes focused on me again.

"Tate, god, Tate," she half moaned, half cried, and I bit my own tongue to stop from moaning at the sound. I continued pumping with my fingers until she stopped shaking, when I pulled them away from her and sucked them into my own mouth. She watched, regaining her breath, but I couldn't focus on her. I was painfully hard, leaking into boxers I was sure I'd have to throw away now. It was worth it, but I didn't know what to do now. Was it considered rude to whip your dick out and jerk off in the middle of a date? Probably, but there really wasn't any way around it. Violet watching me jerk off was probably more arousing than it should have been. When I'd first freed myself from the confines of my jeans and boxers, I'd grasped the base firmly and begun jerking off quickly, too far gone and in too much pain to take it slow or enjoy it. She'd sat up, transfixed, and pressed her lips to the back of my shoulder.

"You're so sexy," she'd whispered in my ear, before biting down on the shell and sucking the lobe into her mouth.

"Mm, fuck," I spat through gritted teeth, all my energies focused on the building release. She crawled around in front of me, eyes dropping from my face to my dick and watching, transfixed as I shamelessly got myself off. I came quietly, a habit of years of hiding in the basement. She pulled my hand from my dick and licked the cum off my fingers and palm. I smiled at her and she dropped my hand, pushing my camp curls back from my forehead and planting a kiss against my cheek.

"It's getting kind of cold," she stated, and I nodded, because it really was.

"Come on," I stood on shaky legs and took her hand.

"Are we going home?" She asked, and I was pleased by the disappointment in her voice.

"Hell no. We're gunna make a fire on the beach" I explained and she beamed obviously very much into that idea.

Obviously Violet had enjoyed that last taste of a sexual experience, because as soon as I'd settled beside her on the sand, after successfully lighting a driftwood fire, she'd grabbed my collar and pulled me down on top of her, resting me between her thighs and sucking my tongue into her mouth… not that I was complaining at this new assertive side of her. I pulled away from her mouth in order to let her breathe, and she let out a shaky breath that ghosted across my swollen lips.

"I want to," she mumbled, pushing her hand against my half-hard dick. At her touch I froze.

"Oh no," I whispered before I could stop myself, realising too late that she would be hurt by such a comment.

"Sorry… I thought-"

"I just… violet, I swear, I wanna be with you so badly, and that's never happened to me, with a girl." I had to cut her off, had to make her understand that it wasn't her, not at all, it was sex. Sex was something that was an issue for me right now. After… her mother, I couldn't do that to her. Not when things were like this. Not when she hadn't given herself to me in every other possible way. It wouldn't feel right. She misinterpreted me completely, of course.

"Are you gay?" She asked, and I bristled at the accusation, even though I knew she wasn't doing it to annoy me.

"No. I just…" I sat up, no longer able to tolerate the proximity. I had to think on my feet, fast. "Maybe it's those meds your dad gave me. They do that, you know." She sat up, giving me a look. My excuse was weak, almost completely fallible, considering she'd seen me with a perfectly hard erection not an hour ago.

"Yeah, I'm gunna go." She stated, getting up quickly and confirming the fact that my lie had not only failed, but had insulted her.

"No, no, no Violet." I grabbed at the hem of her cardigan to stop her from leaving. I knew I was acting childish and selfish, but I didn't want her to leave. It would be at least a year before we could be here again, and I hadn't yet shared the most important connection I had with this beach, with her. "I'm not ready to go. Not yet." I looked up at her, pleading, and she rolled her eyes, looking out towards the ocean rather than at me to hide her anger and embarrassment, but she sat down beside me and didn't pull away when I put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to me.

"I used to come here, when the world closed in, and it got so small I couldn't breathe. And I'd look out at the ocean, and I'd think 'yo douchebag, high school counts for jack shit. Kurt Cobain, Quentin Tarantino, Brando, De Niro Pacino, all high school drop outs. I hated high school. So I'd come here, and I'd look out at this vast, limitless expanse, and it's like, that's your life man. You can do anything, could be anything, screw high school. That's, that's just a blip in your timeline. Don't get stuck there." She looked up at me, her expression sad but accepting, and put her head on my shoulder. I rested my cheek against the top of her head and sighed, glad she'd forgiven me or at least decided to ignore my behaviour, as she had with the other time she'd touched me and I'd freaked. I wondered how long it would take her to make the connection. Knowing Violet, it wouldn't be long.

The silence was peaceful and I was glad for it. Rustling behind us, scuffed sneakers on the rocks, drew me out of my little niche and back to reality, but I wasn't ready to turn around yet, hoping and praying whoever it was would walk on by.

"There's someone here," Violet muttered urgently, turning around. I followed her line of sight in time to observe the group of teenagers coming our way. Shit. "Nice costumes. What are you, the dead breakfast club?" Violet quipped, biting, and something wriggled inside me at her cruelty. Pride.

"You know, there's a whole lot of beach, guys," I tried, wanting to diffuse the situation. I liked the cruelty in Violet, but I didn't want these guys to ruin our night, or worse, to reveal everything to Violet before I had the chance to keep her.

"Good job, Tate, you finally came out of hiding. We've been waiting for years for you to show your face," he turned his head to the side, his mouth curling up into a sneer, "but you like mommy's little safe house, don't you?" It wasn't a question, and I bristled at the term of endearment, 'mommy'.

"I don't know you." I replied, a silent warning implied in the deadpan of my voice. If he said too much, I'd kill him all over again.

"You know I'm actually surprised you have the balls to show your face around here," the cheerleader hissed. Keeping my mask of carefully shaped confusion, I remembered the piss stains on her too-short skirt before I altered the inside of her chest with satisfaction.

"Yeah, maybe you should have worn a mask." Coming from this ghoulish poser, I wanted to laugh until my organs gave out and imploded through oxygen deprivation.

"I'm not really into Halloween." Silent mocking. They knew as well as I that Halloween was the night the devil showed his face, and mine had been the last they saw.

"But this is different, right?" Her words dripped more meaning than her tone ever could. "You have a date. How cute is that?" The threat in her tone made the monster in me awaken, because no matter how much of a game this was, with Violet involved it was serious.

"Leave her alone." I may as well have screamed it, because the girls-too pale face blanched almost translucent.

"We don't want her, we want you." I understood what he meant. They wanted to be released from the torment of their almost after-life. They wanted to know why I'd killed them, and they wanted me to be sorry. If I was sorry, they could go on to someplace better. That's now what I wanted, though.

"How about we drown him?" The Goth girl quipped, sharing excited glances with the others.

"No, we should shoot him, right between the eyes!" The jock spat, pushing his finger against the hole I'd made when he'd tried to stop me.

"Ha-ha, Halloween pranks." I'd try to forget Violet was there, hoping that she would be silent and the others would forget she was there too. Or, at the very least, that they would think she was in on everything, and not feel the need to clue her in.

"Will somebody please waste this bitch?" The Goth exclaimed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. They thought she was with me for me, the me I was before her.

"Yeah, why does he get a girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend, do you have a girlfriend? Kyle, you?" Fucking Kevin, I'd had English with him and he didn't know who Poe was.

"Nope, I haven't had sex in a long time." Kyle leered down at Violet and I felt my lip curl back from my teeth in a snarl. I pulled Violet towards me and up to our feet. She was too pure to be exposed to this high school filth.

"Come on, let's go. This beach sucks. Someone should pick up the trash." I threw the insult back over my shoulder, but the bitches and assholes just smirked at each other.

I tried to act like it hadn't bothered me, like I really didn't know those kids, but it did and I do. Their faces haunt my nightmares, their blood laces my dreams and their pleading and screaming and begging echoes the soundtrack to my every waking moment. Violet shut and locked her bedroom door and turned, fixing me with a disbelieving stare.

"Are you seriously gunna act like nothing happened at the beach? They totally knew you Tate." I shrugged, watching my toes scuff on her floor. Lying to her was becoming more difficult.

"But I don't' know them." I mumbled, feeling ashamed of myself under her scrutiny.

"Then why do they hate you?" Her question was relevant, and for a moment I couldn't think of an excuse. I'd never expected anything like this to happen.

"They're just high school assholes, I mean, the world's full of them, it's just popular kids who get off on being mean, and cruel," I hadn't convinced her, her jaw was set in a harsh line. "I thought you understood that." I added and her lips parted, jaw slackening as her features softened.

"Tate, I can tell you're totally freaked out, but-" A dog barked outside, and I knew before we'd gone to the window that they'd followed us here. They already knew where I lived, from countless years of standing outside this house, looking up at me whilst I laughed from the window. I knew though, that I couldn't deter Violet. They were on her property, and she would go outside and bitch them out. "It's them, they followed us here? This is bullshit!" She strode to her desk and pulled a pair of scissors from the tub of art and craft material she rarely touched. I sighed, grabbing her arm.

"No, no Violet, just leave them, they're just asshole kids, okay?" I tried, pulling her to me. She pushed against my chest but I held her fast, knowing she was getting more and more angry about the captivity. She shoved me hard, jamming her knee into my groin. I bowled over, clutching at my wounded dick.

"Shit, Violet!" I groaned, coughing. She slammed out of the room, pelting down the stairs. "Violet!" I yelled, stumbling out of her bedroom and down the hall.

"Go away, Tate!" She yelled without turning around and I was in the basement, pounding my fists against the wall because she had no idea what she'd done. She was at the door now, I heard the creak from above as she pulled the heavy wood from its frame. I stumbled to the tiny window, ramming my face to the glass. I could see bloodied trousers, scuffed shoes on the porch.

"Oh great, he sends his little girlfriend out." The jock's voice was muffled by the layer of glass between us, but I could hear him. I would intervene if they tried to hurt her, though breaking through her dismissal would be hard.

"With a pair of scissors. You gunna make us some paper dolls?" That one always was a bitch. She was a bitch when I was alive and she was worse now, because she was jealous of Violet despite what had happened and it had made her hateful.

"This is private property." I imagined the way she was standing, arms folded across her chest, causally, but with every intention to use the scissors dangling from her delicate fingers. "I have every right to call the cops.

The cheerleader, the one I didn't really know at all, joined it. "Go ahead, call them, you'll probably need them." That was a little close to the truth and I growled low against my teeth.

"Screw that, she deserves whatever happens to her." The jock again. I wondered if he was scaring her. He'd never been scary in life, though he'd tried to be intimidating. I remember when he flipped a young boy's dinner tray out of his hands on the very first day of school. I'd set the apple tree in front of his house on fire, and the cops had blamed Aaron Mitchell, a weedy kid who'd used to watch me run track and occasionally tried to talk to me about music. Justice is shit.

"Yeah, she's like those lonely fat chicks that marry guys on death row. You're deeply, deeply disturbed." I didn't like the way she was talking to Violet, but at least the dumb Goth bitch thought Violet was clued in. I guess it's what she'd have done.

"You guys need to take your disgusting, made up faces and go home. Now!" Shit. My Violet was fierce and my heart burned with pride, and I imagined her spitting in their faces and pushing her pale fingers into the cavities of their wounds.

"Home? Where's that?" The cheerleader's voice was shaky, and I guessed she was crying as she did the moment I wrenched the desk from its bolting. "I'm an only child. After what happened my parents split up, sold the house, moved away, no forwarding address so I don't have a home." She was whining to my Violet, expecting, what exactly? Retribution? Sympathy. I was pretty sure Violet wouldn't buy into her.

"Parent's suck, but I can't fix it for you." Her tone was still blunt and harsh, and I smiled, tugging on the end of a curl tickling my neck. She was so perfect.

"Can you fix this?" The fucking jock was back on the scene, probably shoving his empty, rotten skull at her face. Pathetic. "Can you give me back my scholarship to Georgia Tech? I'm supposed to be starting quarterback freshman year." What was Violet supposed to do about it?

"She doesn't care, she's in love, and she'll do anything for him including giving him her virginity. Tonight was the night, wasn't it?" Too far, I mashed my face against the window, trying to get a look at the corpse of the girl I would ruin if I ever got my hands on her.

"None of your business." I noted the insecurity running through her words. She was cool on the outside, but that would have hit her, hard. She was already shamed by my rejection, and the reminder wouldn't make life any easier for either of us now.

"You stupid slut." I kicked the wall, feeling a toe or two break in the process and focusing on the pain. I knew I couldn't stay down here much longer, not if they were going to insult her like that. "She's worse than he is, she thinks it's okay what he did to us." This was the moment they would drop the bomb, and I couldn't let it happen.

"What did he do to you?" She yelled it now, her voice higher in pitch from the strain and the stress of the situation. I forced myself away from the window, falling on the floor. My body was held firm like a magnet to the concrete, the house was punishing me for even thinking about breaking its most sacred right. I couldn't hear them anymore, and for all I knew, they'd told her already. I felt my nails splinter back from my fingertips as I tried to find purchase on the smooth flooring, dragging myself an inch and collapsing again from the effort.

"Violet," I whispered through gritted teeth, dragging myself another inch. There was pressure on my leg, but glancing behind me confirmed no one was there. The house needed payment for the disobedience I was expressing. The pressure on my leg built and built and built, becoming impossibly tight, until the crack. I felt my bone splinter and I pressed my face to the floor, muffling my scream inside my mouth. "Violet," I scraped her name out of abused lungs, dragging myself another inch across the floor. My bones snapped back together as quickly as they'd broken, and just as painful. "Fuck!" I screamed into the floor again, crippled by pain and confusion. But it was over. I had been punished, and I stood as good as new, no longer bound by her banishment. "Violet," I reminded myself, launching up the basement steps and to the door. Violet was still standing there, and from what I could tell, she was unscathed.

"Let's put her down. Out of her misery," the Goth hissed, and my head reeled from the sudden change of scenery like Deja vu.

"Leave her alone!" I yelled from the door, happy to have found my voice.

"Finally! The prodigal son returns," the jock pushed off the wall and the others turned to look at me.

"Come on down, man, we've got some questions." Kevin hissed. Violet darted up to my side, and I placed a hand on her waist, examining her to make sure nothing was out of place.

"Go inside, I can handle this." My tone was colder than I'd meant it to be, but I was pissed off. I didn't like being punished by the house, and I didn't like Violet being involved.

"I seriously doubt that." The cheerleader snapped and I fought the urge to smile at her attempt to scare me.

"Go inside!" I yelled at her, not meaning to. She didn't flinch back and slip away like I'd hoped, instead, moved closer to me.

"No, they want to hurt you!" I softened at her concern, treated it as a reminder of why the act had to continue.

"Karma's a bitch, Tate." That one was becoming really fucking annoying, and the way Violet stiffened next to me told me she'd guessed at the jealousy underneath her anger.

"You wanna talk to me? Let's see how fast you can run!" I shoved past them all, sprinting down the street on my freshly healed leg. I had a good few seconds on them, I'd taken them by surprise, but they were fast too. Being dead had the perk of not needing to breathe, so they'd never get a stich and neither would I. I could have run until the sun went up, but I was feeling cruel because they'd ruined the only date I could take Violet on for a year. I hopped the ledge of rocks and pelted onto the sand, spraying it up into my shoes. I stopped, resting against a bench and panting hard as though they'd worn me out and trapped me in. Playing possum until they came sniffing round. I heard them drop onto the sand behind me and turned my head, groaning.

"I used to run track."

"We Know." They were coming at me with determination, and I turned to face them, ready to begin.

"Is somebody gunna explain this to me?" I held my hands out, in an innocent gesture. The Goth bitch carried on walking when the others stopped, getting right up in my personal space.

"Do you believe in God?" It was a connection we shared, and I would forget it and she would not.

"Is that what this is about," I smirked, "You guys are with Campus Crusades?" I knew it would hit a raw spot and I was rewarded with a hard shove that knocked me into an empty barrel. It didn't hurt, and I enjoyed the aggression

"You asked me if I believed in God and you put a gun to my head. I said yes." The disgust on her face was directed as much at herself as at me, and I appreciated her for it. "It wasn't even true, and I said yes. And then, you pulled the trigger." The accusation was back. I bit back a smile. She noticed.

"What is this? Is this part of a Halloween act? Cuz, I mean, the makeup, it's chilling, but the performance is-" I was expecting the knee before it hit me, so I covered my crotch and he got me in the stomach. I let him knock me to the ground, huffing on shattered breath I didn't need.

"No more bullshit, Tate." The jock yelled at me, and I stifled my laughter under a cough. "You owe us an explanation!" The worst thing I could do to them now was to deny them.

"Why are you doing this to me? What do you-" Another kick, hitting me in the ribs but delivered with little power, confirmed that I was hurting them all.

"Why did you target the jocks? I never did anything to you!" That was really fucking rich. Just because he'd never noticed me, or never thought I was worth the hassle because I was on the track team, he thought he was innocent? Like I couldn't take revenge for his crimes against another?

"It wasn't just the jocks, man. I mean, look at me, look at Amir! Did you ever once, go to a football game?" The smart guy who'd never done anything to anyone shook his head, jaw oozing. I licked the front of my teeth under my lips. "This guy was honour role, he could have been valedictorian, asshole!" Kevin kicked me, next, though his efforts were less appreciated. He wasn't a violent person and it showed. I was disappointed. "Now I'm not going to change the world, okay, but he could have, he could have been something and you ruined all that potential." I'm sure that little speech was designed to make me feel bad, but it didn't. Amir was the one mistake I'd made, but he'd pushed me to it.

"We wanna know why, you owe us that." The cheerleader girl was crying again, and her tears, flushed face, reminded me of the little, horizontal cuts on the pale arm of the girl in my history class.

"Way more than that." And I was back in the moment, and her sneer was pretty, almost.

"No you've got the wrong guy okay." I was starting to sound flat and forced, because my mind was back in the glorious moments.

"No don't you dare, we have been looking for you for years!" Her lips were moist with salt sweat tears and I stared at her pouting mouth for a long moment, making a mental note to replicate the look on Violet one day, though I didn't know how to make her cry like this, with this level of depravity and despair that came only with losing everything.

"He's screwing with us." The first smart thing this one had ever said, probably.

"Maybe he's in denial." She doesn't really believe this, none of them do. But it would make it easier to think I was feeling this regret, over the calculated mind-fuck I was turning their miserable isolation into.

"Maybe he's psychotic." I'd give them what they wanted.

"Get out! Get out of my head!" I screamed, pulling at my hair. The dramatics stopped me from laughing.

"We aren't in your head. We are right here." The cheerleader was close to me now, and I think I saw sympathy in her eyes. She thought I was mad. How beautiful. I let crocodile tears slip from my eyes, thinking of Violet.

"Come on Chloe, the sun's coming up." The jock gestured to the slight lightening on the horizon, but 'Chloe' the sad cheerleader stayed put.

"Please just say it. Just say what you did." I shook my head, eyes wide and innocent. "I should be thirty-four years old. And married, with babies." Her voice broke with a fresh wave of tears, mourning for the dead children she'd never rescue.

"I don't know you. I'm sorry." Her eyes deadened behind the moisture. "I don't know you." My denial was the worst I could do.

"Come on, we gotta go." The Goth girl's voice had softened, quiet and gentle because she did not understand the life the cheerleader mourned for. Her life had been a tragic tribute to dead poetry. They leaned on each other a little as they walked away, a comradeship borne out of conflict they were both powerless to prevent, and unable to escape from. In a strange way, I envied them because they had nothing to hide and no one to hide from. I lived in a cage with the most beautiful person I'd ever met, and every day was a violent struggle to bury the me she would loath until she joined me.


	16. Games

**A/N; I know this is short, but I wanted to get something up. I'm working on the next chapter right now though, so it won't be long, promise. Massive thanks to everyone still reading!**

I knew it wouldn't be long before she'd find out everything. What those douchebags had said really got to her, I could see it in her face. She'd go looking for answers, and it wouldn't be long at all before she found them, because the signs were everywhere. Memorial plaques and yearbook tributes plastered all over Westfield. I just hoped she'd have joined me before we got to that stage. She didn't need to know. It would just hurt her, and it's not like I'd ever kill her. Why should it be her problem? I knew a part of me needed to make her forget Halloween, in the best way I could.

She came storming up the front path of the house a good hour earlier than she should have. I hoped she wouldn't get in trouble, but I guess either her parents weren't home or were too wrapped up in themselves to notice, because she wrenched her window open and dropped onto the ledge just minutes after closing the front door. I couldn't decide whether to announce myself from down here and wait to be invited up or to just sneak inside, but after Halloween there's a good chance she'll be mad at me and won't invite me in at all, so I opted for the latter.

I stayed unseen until I was outside her bedroom door, not fancying a run-in with Dr Harmon, because I still wasn't allowed to be here, at all. I thought about knocking, too, wondering if it would conform to social conventions to just barge in on her. But to be honest, I wanted to see her, right now, and I wouldn't be able to do that if I had to knock and wait. Plus, she'd probably think I was a parent, anyway, so she wouldn't answer. She didn't turn around when I opened the door, so I guess I was being quieter than I thought. I walked, quite loudly across the floor but she still didn't turn away from the window. I felt her jump under my hands as I pulled her back into the room, flopping onto the floor and curling her into my lap. She turned, her face blanching, as she pulled little white buds from her ears. They sounded like static.

"What the fuck, Tate?" She whimpered, turning in my lap to straddle me. She wasn't mad.

"Hey," it wasn't a genius reply, but it was all I could manage with her that close to me.

"I was so worried. You asshole!" She punched me, hard, and I doubled over, face against her shoulder. She knotted her fingers tightly in my hair and pulled my face up to meet hers, kissing me hard. I slipped my fingers up her shirt to rest on the bare skin of her waist.

"M'sorry," I gasped, but she didn't give me time to breathe before her mouth was on mine again, her tongue weaving it's way past my lips and mingling with my own. This dominant side of her was turning me on, but I knew it was borne out of insecurity and worry, so I didn't want to ruin the emotion of the moment.

Obviously my dick had other ideas.

"Mmm," she mumbled, grinding down slightly as she felt my length against her crotch. I wished I was wearing jeans now, because these pants were so baggy the tent I'd pitched was impossible to ignore.

"I'm sorry," I gestured down, embarrassed that I couldn't control my own hormones.

"Don't be. I've missed you, bad." She slipped her hand down my chest and dragged up my sweater and shirt, revealing the flesh underneath. She smiled, wickedly, and I smirked back, eyes widening as she shoved me back.

"Fuck!" I cursed as my head hit the hardwood floor, but she silenced me with a finger on my lips and a firm brush to my crotch with the hot palm of her hand. "Violet…" I trailed, enjoying this too much to tell her to stop but wanting to, at a later time, at least be able to plead that I'd tried.

"Shhh. I thought the worst had happened to you. I'm not letting you go again." Her eyes and words burned with a fierce intensity I recognised. I knew my apologies would only make it worse, so I just nodded and lifted my body off the floor enough to discard my shirt. She scraped a fingernail against my nipple and I yelped as it hardened under her rough treatment. She smirked, sticking her butt out as she leaned down to lick across the line she'd swiped, paying extra attention to the sensitive, hardened peak. I gripped her ass tightly, pushing her down against my crotch to get some kind of friction.

"This is my game," she reminded me, pulling herself from my grasp and kneeling beside me. I felt exposed as she eyed the tent in my pants, and I tried to reach for her again. "Tate…" she warned and I licked my lips, nodding.

"Your game, right, it's your game Violet." I mumbled and she rewarded me with a firm grope of my dick through my pants. I moaned, loud and self-indulgent, but she obviously enjoyed it. She bit down on my collarbone, hard, whilst her hands worked on undoing my pants.

"Victory," she whispered nudging me to raise my hips so she could pull my pants down to my ankles and off my feet. She stared at my erection and I smirked, confident again because I knew I was pretty big. The queers from before were good for one thing at least; educational literature. My smirk vanished in a low groan when she darted her hand into my boxers and squeezed the base of my dick, and I bucked uncontrollably.

"Ugh, fuck, Violet," I panted, and she smiled in a loving way, using her free hand to rake the sweat damp hair away from my face. She gestured to my boxers, flicking her fingers into my waistband and trying to pull them down. I took the hint and raised my hips again so she could pull them off.

"Shit," she breathed and I bucked again, desperate for some form of contact. There was nothing more sexy than her looking at me like that, wanting me.

"Violet…" I growled, and her eyes snapped up to meet mine, vacant and lust-blown. "I know it's your game, but if you don't touch me soon, or at least let me touch myself, I'm going to explode," I warned and she nodded, biting back a smile of pride as she gripped the base again.

"I want to," she stated, just like she had on the beach. And I wanted to, badly, but she wasn't in the right mind frame.

"Me too, Violet. But… you're only doing this now because you were scared of losing me. Our first time has to be perfect. I want it to be perfect." I pleaded with her to understand, but I knew she wouldn't. I knew before I'd even said anything, really, because her eyes hardened and she pushed up off the floor.

"Fuck you, Tate." She spat through gritted teeth, turning back to the window. I sighed, getting up and scrambling to dress. I was still painfully hard, despite the now hostile atmosphere, and I knew it wouldn't go away by itself.

"I'm so sorry Violet." I knew that wouldn't work either, because she hates it when I apologise.

"Later. We'll," she took a deep breath and turned around to face me, forcing a tight smile. "I don't want to rush you, either. We'll talk about it later. Right now, I need to be alone, okay?" I was about to protest, but the glassy look in her eyes told me she was going to cry, and she'd hate me more than she hated herself if I saw her cry.

"Okay. I'll see you later." I pressed a kiss to her forehead, annoyed that I couldn't end the farewell with the 'I love you' hovering so naturally on my lips. It was not the time or the place, and it would probably just make her shame and her anger burn brighter. I left through her door, but appeared in the basement, knowing I needed to rid myself of my problem before I could even think about the next step in my game plan.

Slinking to my favourite corner of the basement, conveniently dark and secluded for my depraved acts, I dropped my pants and boxers and spat on my palm, wrapping my hand around my dick and pretending it was Violet. I laughed, dryly, realising I'd probably jerked off down here alone more since I'd actually had a girlfriend than I had before, when I'd only do it when absolutely necessary.

I breathed her name out harshly as I came, squeezing pressure up and down as though she was contracting around me, wincing as I coated the already-ruined wall.


	17. Special Death

**A/N: So sorry for the lateness of this chapter, I'm struggling to keep it up, but don't worry, I won't stop writing before the finish, or write a rushed ending. We have a long way to go, I promise! Thanks for sticking with me. **

I knew it would take a while for Violet to forgive me, but my god I was losing my patience. I may be a ghost, but there does come a time when I snap, and it was coming up fast. She hadn't acknowledged me for just over a week, and it was driving me mad. I saw her in everything, and smelling her smoke and perfume as she dashed by made it all the more hard to give her the space she needed. I was rocking in the basement, when I made up my mind. I was going to talk to her. I was going to force her to talk to me. I stormed my way upstairs, bursting into her bedroom. She wasn't there. I walked over to her bed, softening the moment I was surrounded by her things. I didn't want to fight with her now, I wanted to show her the sweet Tate that I knew I could be for her. Everything had to be perfect for her. I knew I had to convince her that I was a good person, before she found out that I maybe wasn't. I put on one of her favourite songs, knowing it would bring her right to our room. I turned out the lights and flicked on a lamp in the corner, so it illuminated the old-school blackboard mounted on the wall, and I just looked at the blank board for a minute or two. I didn't know whether this was really the right time or place to say it, but I hoped it would make her realise how serious I was about her. I could hear her tapping up the stairs, attracted to the music. I slipped into the basement to wait for her to discover my set up. I wanted to give her a moment before I knocked on her door like I'd just arrived. The music shut off instantly, and I wondered if that was a good sign or not.

"Ooh, that's not a good sign," I stiffened as she purred too close to my ear.

"Maybe it was too loud." I growled.

"Get real. Your little girlfriend knows all about you." I whipped my head around, but either she was a really good actress, or she was telling the truth. She almost looked sympathetic. Your bitch of a mother came over to see her earlier. She knows, she knows everything. Maybe today wasn't the best time for your little declaration, huh?" She paced backwards, merging with the shadows. "Never know what she'll do, unstable thing," she cooed, and I would have smashed her skull in for calling Violet unstable if I wasn't suddenly so worried. I pounded up the stairs and shoved Violet's door open. She was curled on the bed, not moving at all. I dropped onto the bed, bouncing her as I landed, she was too cold. There was an empty orange bottle beside her, and I knew what she'd done before I even read the label. The prescription was made out to the coke whore, and I growled at the thought of that bitch talking to Violet… or being responsible for Violet taking too many. I lifted her up, but she was a dead-weight in my arms and she wouldn't be able to support herself on my back. I placed her gently on the floor and gripped her arm, dragging her body out the bedroom and down the hall.

"Don't you die on me, Violet! No! Don't you die!" The hysteria was rising up in my throat, and I began to cry, harder than I had in years… harder, perhaps, than I did when my brother was murdered. I got her to the bathroom, remembering vaguely a lesson in first aid where they mentioned something about cold water reviving a person.

"Don't you die on me!" I held her against me and wrenched the taps to start a cold stream on the shower. An icy burst of water shocked me, but I knew it wouldn't harm me in the long run. She didn't so much as twitch when the water hit her, and I cried harder, becoming desperate.

"Violet!" I had a sudden burst of inspiration, holding her in position and pushing my fingers as far down her throat as I could at this angle. When the pads of my fingertips brushed the back of her throat I curled them round and she gagged, spewing bile and pills between her legs. She'd woken up, and for that I was grateful. More than grateful, really. I brushed the hair away, plastered to her face, and she turned to look at me. Her eyes were out of focus and not altogether real, and I knew, she'd taken too many.

"Violet," I mouthed, holding her close and trying to ignore the way she turned her face from me. She let out a wailing sob, looking down at her knees. I pulled her tightly against me, her back to my chest. I pressed a kiss behind her ear, and then another and another down her neck. I pulled my hands from either side of us and placed them on her shoulders. I continued to kiss her neck, over and over, and she continued to cry like I couldn't fix it. Eventually she stopped shaking and I took that as the queue to turn off the shower. She unfolded herself from my grasp and stood, climbing out of the bathtub. I got up and followed her into her bedroom.

"Why was I in the bathtub?" Her voice was wobbly, frightened. She glanced back at her bedroom door, eyes darting to follow her mind's wandering back down the hall and to the bathroom. I couldn't let her go back that way, now that she was a little more lucid, because she might just be lucid enough to see the corpse of the dead girl that used to be her. I'd pulled the curtain across as I'd gotten out after her, as a precaution, but it probably wasn't enough. I just hoped the maid would get to it before one of the Harmon's did.

"I don't know. I mean, I guess you must have gotten cold, so you went in the shower…" I had nothing. There was no way to explain this to her, and she knew it. She knew I'd put her in that bathtub, but it would be up to her whether the issue would be pushed.

"Right." She turned around, crawling onto her bed. Usually I would crawl right in after her, and hold her until she falls asleep, but somehow tonight felt different.

"Can I stay with you?" I hated how needy I sounded, and I hated that I had to ask in the first place.

"No, I think I want to be alone, tonight." She didn't even turn around to look me in the eye when she said it, and I knew right then and there that things would be different between us from now on. The next morning I waited for her on the little brick wall by the back door, knowing she would come out here to smoke. She rounded the corner, fiddling with her pack, but stopped short when she saw me waiting for her. I tried a smile, but it fell flat on my features because nothing could hide how miserable I was without her. She turned around to go back in the house.

"Aren't you going to have one?" My voice was a monotone. She turned on her heels, slowly.

"No. I'm not really feeling like it." I nodded.

"Sure, okay. Well, I'll go, okay? That way, if you do feel like it, you can have one without me ruining it for you." I shrugged to the edge of the wall, letting my legs dangle for a moment before I dropped onto the floor and rounded the house, out of her sight. I turned right back around, but kept myself hidden from her, so I could watch her. She hesitated, looking at the spot where I'd rounded the corner, before sighing and making her way to the wall, positioning herself in the exact spot and pose as I'd been just moments before. I'd like to imagine she did it on purpose, but there's a good chance we were just fairly similar. I felt like I'd been shot all over again, and I knew that being away from her would hurt less than being constantly rejected. That wouldn't make her happy, either.

She was reading a book on birds. I know, I know, I snapped like we all knew I would. She hadn't seen me yet, and I took a moment to watch her. She was quiet, reading her book, though I was pretty sure she was just scanning it or looking at the pictures because she was flicking the pages faster than she should have. Despite how still she was, she was the farthest thing from peaceful and I knew that I'd caused that, at least in part. I took a few more steps forward, glancing at her book and having my thoughts confirmed. She was reading a book with big pictures.

"I like birds too." The book looked a lot like the textbooks I used to get out at the library at Westfield. I never really read the facts, but I loved to look at the pictures. Violet took a long moment flicking through the pages before looking up at me. Her face carried no expression.

"Why do you like them?"

"Because they can fly away when things get too crazy I guess." She didn't answer me. Silence. "Are you gunna tell your parents? About the pills?" I figured that would get some kid of real response out of her, even though I already knew the answer. She wasn't particularly close to her parents on a good day, there was no way she'd tell them something this big. There's no way they'd cope with it, anyway. Her dad was a lying, cheating asshole who believed he was fucking Freud or something, and her mom was a well-meaning, self-obsessed pregnant woman who really didn't have time for a teenage daughter.

She shakes her head a little. "No. I've been sleeping a lot. They think I'm depressed." We were getting somewhere now, venturing into more personal territory, and for that I was glad.

"Are you?" I knew she was.

"I'm sad." Understatement of the century, and she's nowhere near as sad as she'll be when she finds out the truth.

"Me too." She didn't say anything more. She didn't question why I was sad, because she knew. The way her cheeks blushed just a little told me how guilty she felt for leaving me alone all this time. She wasn't totally sure what had happened, but she knew that she was mad at the wrong person. Then again, if she really knew everything about me like Hayden said, than her silence might well be her way of telling me she doesn't care about me anymore. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't care anymore, but she needed to hear my side of things before she made up her mind. I took a deep breath. "Violet, something's changed in you, toward me." I could feel myself tearing up a little, but her face didn't betray any of her emotions. I'd probably already lost her, but I had to try.

"You're distant, cold." A tear slipped out of her eye. "And.. I don't know what I've done, but I'll leave you alone from now on, if that's what you want." She just looked at me. "Is that what you want?" I was still met with silence, and it was a crueller response than anything she could have ever said. "And do you know why I'd leave you alone? Because I care about your feelings more than mine... I love you." I'd taken the plunge and just said it, and another tear followed the first down her cheek. I knew my tears were falling freely now, and I didn't do anything to stop them. "There I said it, and not just on some chalkboard. I would never let anyone, or anything, hurt you. I've never felt that way about anyone." I stopped there, praying she'd say something. Even if she just told me to go away, it would be some closure. I'd at least know that she'd seen all I had to offer, and decided she didn't want it. I could only ever hope to be enough for her, and there's a good chance that I wouldn't ever be worthy of someone who brings so much light into my existence. She closed the book, sitting up. This was it.

"Come here." I tried to keep the surprise off my face, but I knew this was a good sign. She wouldn't want me to come closer if she planned on telling me to leave her alone. I climbed right over the railings of her bed, not even bothering to take my shoes off though it would bother Violet later. I laid down against her, curling my knees up under myself. After a moment I felt her lie down behind me, slipping her arm around my waist. I clutched at her hand against my side, and she let her cheek drop onto my head. I sighed, happy to be in her arms again, because she'd accepted all of me.

"I'm tired." I breathed, closing my eyes blissfully.

"Me too." She mumbled, leaning into me further. This is where I belong.


	18. Her Tears

She was smoking outside, but I didn't go out to watch her. Partly because I didn't feel like jerking off just yet and seeing her suck on her filter made that inevitable, and partly because I wanted to take advantage of the rare alone time amongst her personal effects. She would be out there for at least five minutes, and I remembered the password to her laptop computer. I sat cross-legged on her bed and opened the lid of the machine, gingerly because I was still pretty familiar.

"The fuck's the power button?" I mused, ghosting my fingers over the keys until I decided the red button was the most likely candidate, and pressed it in with a triumphant 'A-ha!'. But the screen didn't flick into life with the horrible florescence I would never adjust to. I groaned in frustration, digging under her bed for the black chord Violet plugged into the mains power source when the battery got low. I located it, and with several misguided stabs at various sockets on the side of the stupid machine, I connected with something that worked and the computer flared to life the next time I tried the on button. I was pissed off now, knowing how much valuable alone time I'd wasted trying to get it to work. Violet would be back nay minute now, if she planned on returning right after her smoke.

I got the Internet page up, and typed my name in on a whim because Hayden had mentioned something a few days earlier about Violet finding out more than I wanted her to from 'google-ing' me. It sounded dirty, but apparently it wasn't and I just have a sick mind. Coming from Hayden, I must have been way off. Mercifully her homepage was called Google, and I wasn't really sure what to do but I guessed I'd just type my name into the box. With a click of a button, all my sins were laid out for the world to see. I didn't give a shit about the world, I smirked at the idea of my mother or her shit-head fuck-toy seeing it, but this was not for Violet. I sighed, closing the page, any hopes that it wasn't as bad as Hayden had made out seeping out of me and leaving me with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. A page I hadn't clicked on was open under the page I'd closed, but it was different. I clicked on one of the links and music burst from the little speakers on the computer itself. I leapt up, the laptop flying to the bed beside me, as I tried to regain my shit after Violet's angry music had most certainly flipped it. I stopped the song, the pause button was just the same as a VHS, and scrolled through the songs.

"Hell…" I muttered, landing on 'Nuthin' But A "G" Thang' by Dr. Dre. That song was the shit back before I died, you couldn't get away from it and every kid over the age of thirteen knew every word. Even I knew every word, as ashamed of the fact as I was.

I was mumbling fragments of the words before I could stop myself, remembering sticky days that accompany a Californian summer and the crackly sound of the beat to this very song blaring out of every car cassette player, everywhere you went. I was on my feet by 'baby', harmonizing myself automatically, gyrating my hips in a sexual way to the low gasps in the backing track. I was giddily happy like this, dancing in Violet's room to a little blast from my personal past. Sure, 1993 was shit in the house with my cocksucker mother and ridiculous excuse for classmates, but music was something so easy to fall into, whether you were particularly into it or not. I wasn't some gangster, preferring Cobain to 2pac, but I still knew how to get my boogie on.

I ran my fingers sexily through my hair from back to front, bending my knees, as I really got into the gyration of the melody, not realizing, naturally, until it was too late to prevent the ultimate embarrassment from being realized.

"What are you doing?" I spun in time to see Violet leaning in the doorway, and I knew from the amused smirk on her face that she'd been there a while. I wanted to be embarrassed, but the smirk on her face and the sparkle in her eyes just made me beam triumphantly because I'd made her fucking _smile._

"Getting my G on bitch, what does it look like?" I rested a hand on my hip and jutted my hip out, rearranging my face into a sexy smirk regardless of the blush on my cheeks. She pushed off the wall and walked forward, knotting her fingers in the ruffled hair at the nape of my neck.

"You never stop surprising me," she mumbled, trailing her eyes slowly up my chest, neck, jaw and finally rested her eyes on my lips.

"Neither do you." I pressed my lips to her cheek. "What," a kiss on her jawline, "are you doing," to the corner of her jaw, "with that on your laptop?" I nipped her ear and she sighed shakily against me, her breath rustling my hair and catching in the strands. I dropped my hands to her waist and pulled her against me. She squeaked as I pulled her up, her feet on my feet to give her some leverage. She glanced down at our proximity, before pressing her forehead gently against my chest. I moved my feet in a foursquare, dancing like a cheesy couple at a wedding that reminds them how alone they are.

"Would you have married me?" The question is out and hanging between us before I can drag it back into my throat, and it becomes tangible as it pushes her away from me. Her eyes dart to the door, contemplating the ease and luxury of an escape and the denial it would bring, but she looks for only a moment before meeting my eyes again.

" I don't know. I still might, you know." I'm not sure if she's saying that to keep up the pretense or if she's hinting at some unlawful wedlock that would bind us, a million years into the future when we're much too old to be forever seventeen but stuck here anyway. She looked at her laptop again, as a song I didn't recognize came on. She smiled, rolling her eyes and scoffing to herself like a private joke. I pushed my hands into the pockets of my tattered jeans and rocked back on my heels, not sure what I was missing and suddenly resenting the generation gap between us that felt more like a millennia right now than a decade or two.

The singer had a pretty voice, but I couldn't listen to the words with the way Violet was studying me now. I felt like I was taking a test, unconsciously, and there was nothing I could do but stand before her with my everything and hope it would be enough to satisfy the insatiable. She stepped forward, walking me back to the edge of the bed and watching as my knees collided with the mattress and I went down, keeping my balance despite the vertigo that hit like a memory of my righteous offering to the house. She hovered over me, legs straight and feet on the floor but arms supporting her above me and hair brushing my cheek ever so gently. She parted her lips and whispered words I vaguely realized matched the music.

"To stand in your arms, without falling to your feet," she carried on but I was transfixed on nothing but the hunger and resistance warring in her eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to touch her face and pull her to me as the chorus kicked in and I realized why she'd had such a change of heart. Like I was caught in the music of my generation, the good and the bad, she was stirred by everything that reminded her of the Violet she was on the outside. She was a changeable, impressionable entity, and she had been one intrinsically linked to her generation. Whether she knew it or not, she was feeling the void of loss that stirred up inside your heart when you were severed from the world that raised you to be the unique individual. She was clinging to her music now, because it was as much future as she would ever have.

I had done this.

"Violet," I whispered her name with the utmost reverence, not sure if I would fail the test for uttering her name when she wanted me silent. She closed her eyes, raising her face to the ceiling as though in supplication to something much larger than her or I, before rolling a shiver along her spine and dipping her mouth to mine, hot and hopeless. Her arms were still locked in place, a carefully placed line of defence to prevent her body from touching mine, to keep her head level whilst she tested me. She pulled away from my mouth after a moment, standing in front of me, face turning to look out the window at the ever-present Californian sun. She raised her hand to the beams, as though she could absorb the smog or be absorbed, and for a moment I wondered if it were possible. Not for me, but for her. She didn't belong here, and the house knew it as much as everyone stuck here did. She turned then, on her heel, and left without another word and the tears were streaming down my face before I was even fully seated. I hugged my knees to my chest, not caring that my chucks were on her sheets though I knew she'd be irritated if I left marks on her duvet.

"She doesn't belong here, Bates." He was at the door, not willing to be in the same room as me but entirely willing to inflict one more little stab to whatever I had left.

"I know," my voice was broken.

"Who would have known how bittersweet this victory would be for the rest of us," and he was gone, leaving me alone with the blame that had been confirmed by almost every resident in this godforsaken cage. I thought I was going to smash everything I'd ever seen, so I moved to the basement out of courtesy so I wouldn't break Violet's things or piss of Moira unnecessarily. I wasn't in the mood to hurt anyway, no one would ever suffer at my hands as Violet had, and would. I half-heartedly threw a crate across the room, but it wasn't satisfying because I wasn't angry, and I wasn't frustrated. I was more broken than I had ever felt. Lithe, cold, decidedly dead fingers in my hair brought me out of my mind, but it was Hayden, and not Nora crouched in front of me.

I'd planned to tell her to go away, and to fuck off to the very depths of Hell if she would be so kind, but one look at the tears cascading down her face and through her makeup stopped me short.

"I'm sorry, Tate." She'd called me by my first name and she sounded sincere. Violet.

"For what?"

"We all suffer here." Her fingers slipped down my cheek, tracing the track of my own tears, before she brought her fingers to her face and looked at the murky fluid in wonder. "But you will suffer more than any of us, because you're a monster and you can't change no matter how much you want to." She was gone and she was right and nothing else needed to be said. We could never have a happy ending because I didn't deserve one, and I dragged down one more innocent kid in my pledge to rid the world of a perceived, imaginary evil. It was all in my head, and the house had given me Violet as a punishment and a reward.

It was a thank you, Tate, for bringing so many more souls to the house, and it was a punishment for not being able to own up to who I was and what I had done. She was the dolphin caught in a tuna net, too inexplicably perfect for the fate she had fallen into, and I was the fisherman who kept her for himself, wondering at her beauty and at how new she was, rather than setting her free. I hadn't killed her, but I'd given her a loaded gun and whispered thoughts of pulling the trigger.

She hadn't died to be with me, she'd died to be without me. My declaration of love had damned her to an eternity in this prison cell. I was no better than Romeo, because I was selfish and I'd led a lamb to the slaughter just to claim another life, in a very different way. So I sat in the basement and cried out everything I had in me, and I cried bitterly because we were without hope. The best I could do was to be there to make Violet's like better in some way, if I could, seeing as she wasn't living anymore.

If you couldn't tell, the song reference was Adele- Set Fire to the Rain, and that, along with (make you feel my love and rolling in the deep) were used when writing the rest of the chapter. 


	19. Retribution

It was a full week before she appeared to me, and she was distant at best.

"Violet?" I planned to just watch her, but the moment I'd seen her I knew that wouldn't be enough of a fix after the time I'd spent away from her. She didn't even turn; as though it was no surprise at all that I'd appeared in the middle of her kitchen.

"Tate."

"You okay?" Stupid question… man I'm an asshole. She turned now, though, her face sparking with emotion.

"I don't think I am, Tate."

"No," I took a step closer. She didn't back away from me, so I took another step and another until I could reach out and pull her into my chest. She was stiff at first, but relaxed eventually and let out a shaky breath. "I'm not okay either." She pulled away enough to look at me, but kept herself pressed to me.

"I think my mom's going crazy." I felt my face darken but tried to maintain a neutral level of composure.

"I'm sorry." I smiled a little at her, quirking my lip up to try and coax a smile out of her.

"I wish I cared more. I don't know why I don't." I frowned, my eyebrows bunching in confusion. Violet was under no illusions, she knew her parents were self-absorbed and didn't truly care about her, but she cared about them, because she was a good person.

"You do care. You just don't know how to feel right now." It was risky, trying to tell Violet how she feels, she was as likely to bite my head off as she was to accept my thoughts, but she just nodded, accepting my answer was better than her alternative. It was true, too, she was just too good a person. Too good for this house. Too good for me.

"Maybe you're right."

"We both know I am." I nudged her shoulder playfully and she rewarded me with a little smile.

"Wanna play a board game or something?" She asked, and I nodded, though there were a million things I'd rather do to distract her, I'd be whatever and whoever she wanted, when she wanted, forever.

She was sleeping. She'd fallen asleep early and I'd let her, resting against my side with her hand curling and uncurling around my hipbone in the most delicious way. Her eyelids flickered as though she was dreaming, and I envied her. I wasn't sure if I'd dreamed, in the beginning, before I realised I was dead. Maybe it was ignorance that allowed the mind such a reprieve. I hoped hers would last, she deserved the peace and quiet. I could here footsteps thumping up the stairs and forced myself from her side, knowing it would do no good to be seen with her now. Her mother burst into the room, frantic and breathless, and I immediately became alert, ready to fix the problem, whatever it was.

"Violet? Violet, wake up. We're leaving this house. Tonight. We're going to Aunt Joes." She was drowsy as she came around, her face already scrunched with confusion instead of the peaceful, childlike innocence she usually woke with. I felt cheated out of the experience I enjoyed so much.

"What?" Her voice, too, was thick with confusion as well as sleep. I was confused too.

"We're not spending another night here. Now!" Vivien was throwing her clothes out of her dresser and to the floor, a wasted venture seeing as she wasn't packing a bag. Violet sat watching a few more moments before Vivien rounded on her, gripping her wrist and pulling her from her bed, dragging her down the hall, steps and out the door. I followed, frazzled and panicked, knowing she couldn't leave the property even though she didn't know that yet, unwilling to let her find out now. She turned, as though looking for me, and I materialised coming out the house. She glanced between me and the car her mother was loading, back and forth and back and forth.

"Violet, no," I mouthed, audible only within my own ears and pounding through my blood stream. She glances back at me with the most wounded, pained expression I had ever seen her wear but gets into the passenger seat of the car anyway, because she will always choose her mother over me and that's the way it should be, but not the way I want it to be so that's not the way it will stay. Vivien will have to go so I can be the only one she needs, and the only one she has, regardless. I know she'll come back, she has to come back, so I move back into the house, unwilling to watch her fall from her car and through the gates because I'm too selfish to cause myself the heartache of watching her break.

The sound of the front door slamming open and back on it's hinges and footsteps in the kitchen and on the stairs bring me out of the basement and into the hall, to see Violets retreating back up the stairs. I follow, bursting into her bedroom and almost slamming into her where she stands, stoic, staring at the pile of clothes and books on her floor from her mother's invasion.

"Violet?" I whisper it, afraid of spooking her, and she swerves in front of me and presses a finger to my lips, hard enough to draw the blood from underneath them. I nod and she removes her finger.

"Tonight, I thought I was going to have to leave you, Tate."

"There wouldn't have been anything I could do to stop you."

"I know, and you know what?" I shook my head. "There's nothing in the world that's ever scared me more." I opened my mouth to say something, to reassure her, but she stopped me by pulling my sweater down and dragging her mouth to mine.

"I love you," she mouthed against my lips and that was all I needed, because the tension in the room was coiling around us and into my stomach and it was painful, oh so painful. I was alive in a way I had never been, and it wasn't just fooling around when I stripped her of all her clothes and left her vulnerable. It wasn't just lust when I pressed her back into the bed and settled between her legs. It was love that traced my fingers along her slit and rubbed swift, pressure driven circles against her clit. I slid one long, slick finger into her, and then two, three before I pulled out. As my fingers left her body she let out a low whine, which I silenced with a kiss like a promise.

"Patience, Violet, the best is yet to come."

"Please," she looked into my eyes and I nodded, sitting up so I could remove my sweater and shirt, sitting back on my knees to undo my jeans and tug them down my thighs and off my legs in the least comical, least awkward way I could manage. There was still a fair amount of wriggling and cursing needed, but eventually I'd got them off and my boxers which were easier, and I thankfully hadn't killed the mood because she was looking me up and down with love and innocence and I didn't feel ashamed at all.

"I don't want to hurt you," I mumbled as I settled myself against her, sitting rather than lying because this conversation, however brief, had to be settled, no regrets.

"You won't hurt me." She was determined, and that made me determined, so I kissed her again before settling lower, grasping myself at the base loosely and guiding into her. I took it as slow as I thought I could manage without dying, and I guess I didn't do too badly because other than a sharp intake of breath she didn't seem in too much discomfort, even though I was pretty sure I was well-endowed thanks to the stash of porno mags the homos had left in the attic. I pulled out when her walls loosened a little around me, deciding she must have relaxed enough to push back in. That first thrust was heaven, and I shuddered with how unimaginably good she felt.

"Oh," I managed, though the sound was embarrassing and elongated and I was sure I sounded like some cheap hooker, but I didn't care because guess what? Violet fucking Harmon loves me. I'm the first and last boy who will ever put his dick inside her. My life, or whatever this is, really doesn't suck. It was three, embarrassing thrusts later that I realised I was about to cum. I didn't know if that was a good thing, but Violet had been pretty quiet under me, eyes closed and breathing in little sighs, which I guessed meant she was enjoying it but was far from ready for this to be done. But, I mean, what the fuck do I do to slow down the process. Constance. Constance sucking off Larry. Yep, there we are, just keep thinking and thrusting, thinking and thrusting, and I can almost forget how good this is. Violet is the priority.

"Tate?" Her utterance was breathy and sensual but I was too deep in concentration.

"Yep?" I asked.

"What are you… um… shit… what are you thinking about?" Her question sounded painfully awkward and snapped me back to reality. I glanced down at her.

"Shit, um, I was gunna blow, so, y'know, I was thinking unsexy thoughts?" It sounded dumb and insensitive now, great. I wondered how long she'd been watching me for, and what my face must have looked like in order to prompt her question.

"Oh. Well, um, don't?" I smirked, thrusting a little too hard and hitting something deep and tight in her that made my jaw slack.

"Good, cuz, I'm gunna, ahh, shit, Violet!" I all but wailed her name as I came harder than I ever have before, and she wrapped her legs around my ass and squeezed me deeper, riding me out until the very last moment. I collapsed on top of her, too weak and blissed out to do anything more, and enjoying how close and slick and naked she was against me. Eventually, when I was completely limp, I pulled out of her and rolled onto my back, dragging Violet with me so she was laying across my chest. It occurred to me she might be overheating and might want space, but I'm a selfish motherfucker sometimes and I really liked her just like this, I needed her this close to me.

"I… Violet, I love you," I whined, and she rolled her head to press her cheek against my chest in some form of half-assed acknowledgement.

"I'm tired," she mumbled, and I stroked her hair back from her face.

"Go to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up," not that she needed the reassurance really, I was always here when she woke up even if she wasn't aware of it. Best not to mention that part right now though.

She woke up long after the sun had risen. I guess I wore her out. I smirked at the idea, the teenage boy in me taking over with giddy excitement as I realised the magnitude of last night's events. She was mine in every way possible, and she'd _given_ herself to me. I hadn't had to coerce, or force or steal what I wanted, she'd offered it to me like she wanted me to have it. Like she was already mine.

She sat up, reaching over the edge of the bed to pick up her tank top and giving me a great view of her bare ass before she pulled it on and sat up against the headboard, duvet covering the part of her I was most interested in seeing, all the time. I tried not to glance hatefully at the fabric keeping her from me. I gripped her fingers in mine for a moment, brushing past her palm to finger the scars on her wrist. They were healing slow, and I was glad for that even though I couldn't explain it. It made her normal for a little while longer. I was dying to ask. I was dying to know.

"Did it hurt? The first time usually does." I looked up at her expectantly.

"No." I pursed my lips. Does that mean I was bad? "It was intense." Better.

"For me, too." She has no idea.

"You really are here, aren't you?" The disbelief tinged with relief in her voice triggered something instinctual within me, the long-dormant need to nurture and protect, and I swallowed it back. She stroked her fingers against the curl of my palm where I propped my head up on my elbow to look at her.

"Of course. I'll always be here, if that's what you want." I knew now that it was, so I could afford to pretend like I'd really give her the choice. A Tate is for life, not just for Christmas.

"And they'll always be here too, won't they. The… whatever, others." She shakes her head a little. I know she means the ghosts, now.

"They can't hurt us, Violet." The double meaning, the real meaning, is painful to me. They can't hurt her because she's already dead.

"Those freaks who tried to kill me and my mom, they're dead, aren't they. We saw them outside last night. My mom's totally freaked out, she thinks they're back to finish what they started. She called the police and my dad rushed over." I knew all this already, I'd heard Ben arrive a little while ago, but I wanted to keep Violet up here, safe with me, for as long as I could.

"They're just trying to scare you, that's all they can do now."

"I wish I could tell my mom that." Panic rose in me like bile as I sat up more stiffly, closer to her.

"You can't, you can't, you can't, Violet, if you tell anyone what we know they'll say you're crazy, they'll wanna lock you up, they'll try to take you away from here. We'd never see each other again." I implored her to see reason with wide, honest-looking eyes and she bit her lip, nodding almost imperceptibly. I smiled as radiant as I could manage.

"Violet? Can you come downstairs?" It was Dr Harmon calling, unwittingly ruining the most perfect moment I had.

"Coming!" She shouted, less than enthusiastically, getting up off the bed and locating some more clothes. I got up too, completely naked and not caring, embracing her before she reached her door and pressing my lips to hers.

"I love you,: I reminded her, forcing my soul into hers.

"I love you, too. Don't worry. I won't say anything," with a reassuring smile she pulled away from me, looked me up and down and winked playfully before opening the door and whooshing out of it as quickly as though she'd disappeared. I sighed, swaying giddy from her flirting and her kiss, and crawled back into her bed where the sheets smelt like us more than just her and I could relieve last night through my senses when I closed my eyes.

Hayden appeared promptly in the doorway to Violet's room, and I bristled at the intrusion. This was one place she was most certainly not invited.

"Don't even think about coming in here." I sat up, forgetting about my state of undress but thankful a moment later when Violet's duvet pooled at my waist. Hayden looked me up and down with a sly, predatory smirk that made ME feel violated.

"So you finally got into her, huh?" She winked, playful, and I didn't like the thought of her thinking about Violet in that way.

"What do you want?"

"I want what's mine. I want a baby, Tate. I know how much you like to give babies to people, huh?" I felt cold.

"How…"

"Nora and I had a little chat. It's sweet, what you did for her, you know."

"I know. It's bittersweet now, though. That's Violet's mother." And the award for stating the obvious goes to…

"I need you to do it again." Huh.

"You're crazy. A fucking crazy bitch, you know that? No way. I'm not going to rape her mother again. It was wrong the first time." Hayden scoffed.

"You have morals now? I don't want you to rape her again, asshole. She's having twins, remember? Plenty of baby to go around. I need her to leave this house though. Ben can't be here when she's here." I rolled my eyes.

"What am I supposed to do about it?"

"I need you to help me convince Ben… and maybe Violet, that she's crazy. Have her institutionalised for a while." I frowned.

"How would that help you if you want the babies? They kind of have to be in this house for it to work you know…"

"Ben loves me. He just needs some time away from that… her, to remember why. I just need time. I need you to scare her."

"No. No offence, but you're a heartless, harpy bitch who can't stand to see anyone else happy. And I admire that, really, I do, but Violet doesn't like you. So I'm not going to lift so much as a finger for you." She pouted.

"I really hoped it wouldn't have to come to this, Tate."

"Come to what?" I crossed my arms, sensing the threat in her tone.

"You help me, or I tell your little slut girlfriend everything. She doesn't know, does she? That you raped her mother… that she's dead."

"How did you?"

"Crawlspace."

"Oh."

"Good, I'll see you soon Tate."

"Wait!" I can't believe I actually just pleaded with her to stay here. "How will I know when, and what?"

"I'll find you when I'm ready." She turned again, too perky ponytail flicking her neck as she walked and I fisted the sheets in my hands and groaned. Is this all I was, now? A puppet, controlled by the evils of this house in retribution for sins no one would ever forgive?

I was nervous, rocking in the basement.

"Aww, look at little Lord Fauntleroy. Writing sorrowful sonnets in your head to that little nightingale bitch? Adieu, Nightingale! Thy plaintive anthem fades."

"That's Keats."

"Who gives a shit, you're like a girl, sulking down here in the basement, instead of doing something about what's really bothering you."

"I'm tired of hurting people."

"Do you want her to go away? Cuz Vivien booked their tickets, I heard her. You know what you have to do."

"Yeah. I do. I just have to prepare myself. It's not fun."

"You wanna fool around, while you work your way up to it?" Tate gives her a withering look, she kicks the chair legs forward so the seat isn't rocking. "C'mon." she sits in his lap.

"I'm not into it." She caresses him, he hates it.

"What is it about being dead that makes me so horny?" She tried to kiss him, he pushes her back.

"Quit it." He stands. "I'm in love."

"You better locate your balls before you go in there!" she shouts to his retreating back. "That bitch is tough!"

I flickered across her vision, in the corner of her eye, illuminated by the unnatural light seeping through the curtains. I could be a trick her mind is playing on her. I don't want her to be too scared yet… her paranoia will create a stronger reaction. I have to force myself to view her like an animal, like a subject. She isn't Violet's mother right now. She isn't the woman I raped, either, and she's not carrying my offspring. She's just a victim, helpless, inevitable prey, and she's an obstacle that must be tackled in order to keep Violet in the safest place I can imagine for her… my arms. I wait, watching her pace around the room, timid, before pouncing from behind, a hand over her mouth to muffle the worst of her screams. I don't want Violet coming in before Dr Harmon has a chance to get up here. I know he's been pacing outside her door for hours, debating on a course of action that won't damage the family he hopes to one-day repair. I slip away again, a breeze on her flesh, and watch as she presses the predictable panic button. She darts to the side of her bed and pulls out a gun, I raise an eyebrow because I didn't think she had it in her. Vivien Harmon has never struck me as a violent woman, much less a keeper of guns. I underestimate her. Hayden underestimates her. The door opens at the perfect time, Dr Harmon is through the door and Vivien is screaming, shooting with her eyes closed. She's not used to a gun, because she didn't think of the consequences of pulling the trigger.

It's almost like Dr Harmon is on our side, though I can't think why he's so desperately trying to convince the cops she's loco. Maybe its just jealousy… he can't stand the idea of the hulking security dude playing with his toys when he can't. Harmon gives her a Valium and she's lucid but too weak to defend herself anymore. It's Hayden's turn to wreak her havoc now, but she's much meaner than I was, because it was personal. I hated her. She didn't like Vivien, and she didn't like Violet. Vivien tried to reason with her, offered up her husband on a goddamn silver platter, but she didn't want it. I tuned out and thought of last night with Violet, and this morning, and how after this, we could have every morning just the same. I waited for my queue, the announcement of my phantom, and launched across the bed, grabbing her ankles as she tried to escape and pulling her back. I got her underneath me but she wriggled out and slipped off the front of the bed, I followed.

"He liked it so much the first time he's going for round two," I'd got her on her back beneath me now, and I vowed to kill Hayden a few times later for such a cheap fucking shot. I promptly disappeared when Ben burst in, letting him take my place because she was still writhing and kicking and it looked likely she would claw herself if she couldn't get me.

The men were here to take her away quicker than I'd expected, and Violet was left hugging herself in the hallway as they escorted her mother out.

"It's all my fault," she managed, and her dad turned to comfort her. I couldn't listen to this, not yet, not when I couldn't manifest to her and reassure her in my own way. Her dad left soon after, barely sparing a backward glance for the daughter suffering in the house, but I didn't resent him in that moment because it gave me my chance to be with her. I stepped up the hall behind her as soon as the front door closed.

"It's okay. I'm here," I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, protective as much as possessive, and she slowly leaned to rest her head on my shoulder.


	20. Death of Me

**Sorry about the lateness and the relative rubbishness of this update. It's so hard to get into the groove of writing without re-watching the series over and over, and it's so hard to watch the series over and over without curling up into a little ball and crying over Tate and Violet! **

"Do you think they're treating her okay?" I was snapped out my daydream by her voice, a tenuous, barely there hint of worry in her tone. I sat up, her fingers slipping from against my scalp as I propped myself up on my elbow, face already missing the warmth of her stomach against my cheek.

"Totally. Yes, Violet, they're treating her okay. She's not going to be sick forever, you know that, right?" She bit her lip.

"I don't know anything anymore, Tate. I thought I did, I really thought I did, but I just don't anymore. Too much has happened. I mean… my family," she sucked in a shaky breath through little scarred lungs and I shrugged into a seated position in order to pull her against me. Her head slumped against my shoulder for a moment, eyes closing as though I were a soothing presence.

"You're family was fucked up before you even got here, remember? It's not your fault though, okay?" I smiled at her but she just stared at me blankly before shoving my chest, hard.

"You asshole!" She was seething, eyes narrowed until I couldn't see the colour in them anymore, and I sat up, eyes darting between her and the door and calculating whether I could reach it before she could.

"What did I say?"

"What did you…?" She trailed off, scoffing, but flopped down onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," I perched on the edge of the bed, ready to spring back up if I angered her again.

"It's okay, sometimes I forget."

"Forget what?" I didn't like her tone, like she was disappointed in me.

"Sometimes I forget you're just not like… other boys," her pause had me panicking, again sure that she must be about to ruin everything I'd so carefully built up around us, but she didn't. She sat up, rolling her head from one side to the other in a long, languid motion that was too feline, too seductive for someone so soft. I guess the house was changing her, as it had changed so many of its residents. I mean, look at me? Before I got here I was nothing more than an misunderstood, mildly attractive but socially awkward teenager. Now? I'm a sex kitten and a half, everyone knows it. She caught me staring, because she gave me a little smirk and a wink, but a blush stained her cheeks and I knew she was still my Violet. The thought was comforting, though I couldn't wait to better acquaint myself with the sexual Violet just beginning to develop.

"Like what you see, Langdon?" I smirked back, willing to play her game no matter where it led, so long as I was forgiven for the blunder I'd obviously made though couldn't understand.

"Maybe I do. But you know what they always told me in school?"

"Don't have sex, don't do drugs?" She leaned a little into me, teasing me with her scent and her hair breezing into my airspace, before tugging away again.

"They told me I'm a _kinetic_ learner." She nodded, licking her lips slowly.

"That's funny, because they told me I'm a _visual _learner."

"How very interesting," I slipped a hand onto her leg and flickered my fingers down her thigh.

"Mutually…" she let her head fall back on her neck with a little exhale, "beneficial, even." I smirked, thinking that this time, _this fucking time_, I knew what she meant. I crawled over her, leaning in to press my lips to the corner of her jaw.

"Want to watch me get off?" I whispered, husky as I could manage and she whimpered, though whether it was at my words or my breath so close to her I couldn't be sure.

"Ugh, yes, please." I stood awkwardly and she flashed me an excited smile, shuffling back onto the bed with her back pressed against the headboard, getting ready to really enjoy the show. I was suddenly conscious of exactly what I was about to do. I, Tate Langdon, was about to do a fucking strip tease and touch myself for my girlfriend. I folded my arms across my chest with a huff.

"When did I become the chick?" She giggled, rolling her eyes.

"Baby, you know I'll return the favour… and then some," the innuendo in her voice was clear and it made my dick twitch and the blood rush south.

"Fine."

"Want some music? Something… sexy?" She was mocking me, but the way her silent laughter made her eyes sparkle was too precious an opportunity to miss out on, so I let her have her joke. I'd have her begging me before long, after all.

"Fine." I cracked my knuckles out of nervousness and bounced a little on the balls of my feet, taking a moment to appreciate her ass when she bent over to touch the buttons on her music player thing. She stood up, smirking, and stepped forward to plant a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss on my lips.

"Show me whatcha got, boy," I groaned, reaching out and clutching at air because she was already back on the bed, and the beat to the song had started. I wrinkled my nose at the artificial sound, realising she must have chosen it to mock me further, because Violet didn't listen to this stuff either.

The lyrics started in after about 15 seconds, and I tapped my foot to the beat to find my rhythm.

'_When I walk on by, girls be looking like damn he fly,'_ I glanced at her, narrowing my eyes. She shrugged, eyes wide and innocent. I wasn't' getting out of this. I closed my eyes it. I can dance. I swung my hips, thrusting subtly and running my hand suggestively down my chest, resting my fingers on the top of my jeans for a moment before pulling away. She giggled, clapping her hands in amusement, and I grinned, spurred on by her reaction. I ran my hand up inside my shirt, dragging the fabric up a little and giving her a glance of the flesh underneath. She bit her lip, though I don't think it was intentional. I decided to stop teasing her, pulling my shirt off and letting it fall behind me, gyrating in a more exaggerated way and blowing her a kiss. She giggled again, shuffling forward cross-legged to sit closer to me. I placed both hands on the top of my jeans, fingertips just resting inside against my skin. Her eyes followed my hands and focused on my crotch, my dick hardening under the intimate intensity of her stare. The song was coming to an end, and I palmed myself to make sure the results would be impressive when I finally stripped down for her. The song ended with my forefinger and thumb tugging the zipper on my jeans down, and I paused in the silence. Her eyes shot over to her music thing, waiting for the next track. Something kind of Latina started up, and I rolled my eyes. She bit her lip.

"Forgot this was on here…" I shook my head, not believing her for a second.

"Everyone has their guilty pleasures, Violet," I stepped closer to her, dropping my pants and continuing until my knees hit the edge of her bed and her face was conveniently located directly in front of my boxer-clad erection. She glanced down and then back up at me. I was pretty sure she was going to cave, but she just pressed an open mouthed kiss against the fabric and shuffled back, skittish. I shuddered, not sure I could continue the game much further.

'_I know you want me, you know I want cha,' _I crawled onto the bed, stopping short of straddling her. She was flushed with arousal, and stared me down like a wild animal. I wanted nothing more than to take her then and there, but that wasn't the game and I'd already gotten so far, I couldn't stop now. I knelt up, palming myself through the thinner fabric of my boxers. Her eyes were glued to my movement, and I was thrilled to see her squirm and squeeze her thighs together.

"Fuck, Violet," I gasped, groping at myself for a moment before slipping my hand into my boxers and stroking myself slowly, barely touching.

"Do you want me, Tate?" She asked, I opened my eyes and tilted my head to look at her. She was sitting up, too, close enough to taste, but I didn't dare.

"Yes," I shuddered, taking my hand out, expecting her to replace it with hers.

"I didn't say you could stop." The ice in her voice was a turn on in itself, and I moaned at the dominance, slipping my fingers back under the waistband and ghosting along the length again.

"Are you hard for me?" She asked, lifting a hand to lazily trail down my chest and rest painfully low on my stomach.

"So… so hard, ugh," I bit my lip, gripping myself more firmly.

"Do you jerk off thinking about me?" I was lost in the feeling, her voice so close and her hand burning my flesh and my own familiar movements. She shoved me, so suddenly that I couldn't regain my balance and fell back against the foot of her bed. I pulled my hand out of my boxers in order to push myself into a seated position. She crawled towards me, all predator, and slipped her thumbs into the waistband, pulling my boxers down over my dick and to my knees before slipping them off my legs all together. I was completely naked and she was completely clothed and I was too turned on to even care.

"Does it hurt, Tate?" Her voice was soft and breathy, her teeth brushed my pulse point as she straddled my thighs, hovering over me. I could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, even with a few layers of clothing, and I knew she had to be so, so wet.

"Please," I whimpered, both a 'have mercy' and a 'don't stop' because this was every fantasy I'd ever had and more.

"I don't know," she trailed her fingernails down my spine, mouth scolding my flesh wherever she pressed her lips to my bones.

"W- please," I whined, knowing I sounded pathetic but being utterly powerless to do anything other than beg. I needed my release, and if I couldn't give it to myself she'd have to.

"Do you love me, Tate?" She asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Yes. I love you so much Violet. You're my whole life. I mean, before you there wasn'- OH!" I groaned in surprise and pleasure as she wrapped her hand around my dick and began jerking me, slow but firm in a way I'd never tried but decided I liked, now. "Violetttt, ugh," I groaned, letting my head drop forward to rest on her shoulder as she continued to slide her hand up and down my length, squeezing in all the right places at all the right times.

"I want you, Tate," she whispered, knowing I was close enough to hear.

"Can't… hold, ugh, Violet," I hoped she'd get my meaning, but she didn't stop and I was cumming in under a minute, thrusting violently into her hand and coating my stomach and her fingers.

"That was fun," her tone dripped sardonic humour. I lifted my head to look at her and she smoothed the damp curls of hair out of my face.

"You're every wet dream I've ever had, Violet Harmon," I growled and she smirked, leaning in to peck my lips. She tried to pull away but the demon in me was curling and waking in defiance at the way I'd submitted, and I followed her retreat, mashing my mouth to hers and pushing my tongue through the barrier of her lips, pressing her back into the mattress and resting in between her legs. She pulled away, slipping impossibly away from me and going to the door. She put her hand out to push it open, but turned at the last instance to look at me.

"I thought this was going to be mutually beneficial?" I pouted, using her words from earlier. She smirked.

"But baby, it was." She bent awkwardly from view, obscured by the footboard of the bed, and stood again after a few seconds.

"I'll see you later," she winked, tossing a delicate piece of cream-coloured fabric at me before slipping silently out the door and darting down the steps, probably out the door to have a cigarette. I lifted the fabric from where it had landed on my stomach, stretching it out for inspection. It didn't take a genius to discover that they were her panties and they were warm from wear and, most importantly, they were soaked through. I groaned, reaching for my dick again. Violet Harmon will be the death of me.


	21. Massage

Since Vivien had left the house, things had been pretty quiet. I mean, Ben was so wrapped up in his own business that he often forgot Violet was there, which meant there had been little to no talk of her going back to school. Ben was barely aware she wasn't attending, or at least unaware of the extent of her truancy on my behalf. She was reading, outside, and I didn't want to disturb her for a while. I wanted to give her some space, so I was hanging out in the basement. I needed to talk to Hayden anyway, because I heard she was trying to play happy families with Ben and it needed to stop. It would hurt Violet if she found out. I heard the clatter clop of heels on the steps above, and shrank into the darkness, not patient or compassionate enough to deal with Nora today.

"Tate? Tate honey its mama. I have to talk to you. Tate? Tate?" Oh god, the shrillest, cruellest harpy imagined in the nightmares of the Gods had come to talk to me. Of course she had, because I was having a sort of nice day. I watched her peer around a while, hating the way her mouth curled around my name, until I couldn't take it anymore.

"So talk." I was right behind her, with every intention to spook her, and I succeeded. She spun around, clutching one hand to the heart she never had, playing up the façade, though it was useless with the one person in the world who knew what she really was. 'Oh," she gasped, shocked and enthralled as she always was when she saw me, and she cupped my cheeks in her hands. I wanted to pull away, but if she really had something to say I would wait.

"Oh god. Tell me it isn't true, what I've been hearing about you." Her face and voice were fierce, intense, and she was more lucid than I'd seen her in years. I began to panic.

"About what?" I kept my voice a monotone, poker face in place.

"Your behaviour. God, after all the missteps we finally have somebody in this house who can maybe help you." Her voice raised an octave and my stomach lurched at the mention of Doctor Harmon. She couldn't know… Hayden swore she wouldn't tell. If Violet finds out I'll gut her everyday for a year, or maybe I'll let her gut me. Violet wouldn't forgive it. I stared at Constance. "Tell me you did not crawl on top of that mans wife." Oh god, oh shit, fuck, she knew. Who else knew?

"Mom…" The tears brimming in my eyes were usually enough to placate her and have her coddling me and calling me her perfect baby boy, but it wasn't going to work this time. I saw the angry flex of her withered jaw and knew what was coming, but I had to try, still. I had to beg.

"OH!" She wailed, tearing her hands away from me and whipping her head as though my confession had physically wounded her.

"Mom you can't tell Violet okay please don't-" I was cut off with a yell, more out of surprise than pain as her sharp nails caught my cheek in a heavy slap. She rained punches down onto me, hits I knew I deserved but that surfaced memories long since buried. I lifted my arms in a weak attempt to shield my face,_ because if I get bruises on my face she'll be angry, because the school will ask questions._

"What is wrong with you for gods sakes, what is wrong with you?" She was hammering through my useless defence; battering through the cold detachment I'd regarded her with for decades.

"Mom!" I wailed, more for Violet than for myself. She would find out for sure now. If not from Constance than from one of the other ghosts here, because there were always ghosts in the basement and they didn't exactly have a reason to keep secrets.

"Don't you realise what you've done?"

"Mom!" I cried again, begging in the only way I knew how… to make her believe I was her son. She stopped hitting me, stepping back and pressing a palm to her forehead. I continued to cry, hands raised in a protection I no longer needed, because the assault was over.

"I'm not going to tell Violet," her voice was soft now, and she crouched in front of me, pulling my face against her shirt. I let her, desperate to keep her on my side and hopeful because she always had a plan. "But that baby cannot be in this house." I nodded, pulling away and blinking back the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.

"Vivien isn't here anymore, she's in the mental hospital."

"The babies can be born there. She won't come back here. Oh god, all the times she…" Constance broke off, checking herself before she broke down, and meeting my eyes only when her mask was carefully reassembled.

"Vivien knows she was raped. She doesn't know it was you, and she doesn't have to know. But I am taking my grandson, and he will never be here." I nodded.

"Thank you… mama." The word was poison in my mouth but it made her smile, and she reached out to stroke my swollen cheek with the back of her hand.

"My perfect son," she whispered, admiring me in a way that made my skin crawl for a few moments before standing up and smoothing out her clothing.

"I'll come and find you later. Let mama fix everything," and that was it, she was moving gracefully, stealthily back up the steps and hopefully out of the house, though there's a good chance she'll go and see Beau beforehand. I can't really object to that, he looks forward to her visits because to him, she's a mother and not the monster I know her to be.

"I didn't tell your mother about Vivien." Hayden was slumped against the basement wall next to me, and I literally didn't feel her arrive. She must be getting good at the creepy ghost shit, probably watches Ben sleep like I watched Violet before I started keeping her up at night.

"Then who did?"

"Moira. Some doctor lady rang the house and told Ben, she overheard. He's gone to see her." I turned to look at her out of the corner of my eye.

"I don't know how to fix this," I admitted and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, golden boy, you're sadistic excuse for a mother will make all your problems go away, she loves you in a real creepy way," she wrinkled her nose and I bit my lip.

"She's a cocksucker, you know."

"Yeah?" Hayden's eyes were wide, and she stepped towards me, coming up to put her mouth to my ear.

"Bet she sucked you off a few times, huh? Her golden boy?" I shoved her away from me hard.

"Fuck you."

"You didn't want to last time I checked, remember?" I grunted.

"You're pathetic. Go pine over a man you'll never have again, I've got things to do." I shoved past her, praying that she wouldn't test me any further because I liked this sweater and I didn't want to get it all gutty.

"You never denied it," Hayden mumbled to my back and I stopped for a moment before deciding I wasn't ready to have this conversation with anyone, least of all her, and carried on out to find Violet.

I made it to the hall before feeling a gentle weight shift onto my back and the brush of lips on my neck. I knew instantly that it was Violet, I was used to the shape of her and the scent of soap and cigarettes no one else could ever achieve.

"Hey, you," she cooed against my neck and I shivered, pleased that she'd come to find me rather than me have to find her.

"Hey, where've you been?"

"Just out back, I wanted to read in the sun for a while. It was warm," she explained and I smiled, dropping her when we finally reached her bedroom, the old fashioned way. Violet may be light, but it was still a challenge to carry _anyone_ up two flights of stairs so I dropped down onto her bed as soon as we reached it, placing her on her feet first, of course.

"You look tired, Tate," she noted, sitting down beside my sprawled form and looking down at me.

"I _am _tired. Don't know why, but it's been a really, really long morning," I sighed and she made an 'mmm' noise, reaching her hand out to trail her finger tips gently over my facial features. It felt nice, soothing, and completely unlike the feeling of my mothers wrinkled hands.

"That feels good," I breathed, allowing myself to relax under her.

"You okay?" She asked, face twisting to the side to show she was concerned, but also awkward asking me a question like that. She wasn't good at talking.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm tight, though," I hinted, rolling my head on my neck over exaggeratedly.

"You're tight, huh?" She smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"SO tight. How are you with massages, Ms Harmon?" I teased, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

"Okay then, roll over mister," she said, switching positions onto her knees. I felt my eyes widen in disbelief.

"You're not actually going to give me a massage?" It came out as a question, though I hadn't intended it to be that way.

"Yep. You're 'tight' after all," she air quoted around tight and I regretted my turn of phrase, but not the outcome, because I could really, really do with a massage. I needed to relax, and Violet was the only way I could ever do that, anyway. I flipped onto my back and felt her straddle my ass.

"Very unprofessional, Ms Harmon," I commented and she shoved my face into the mattress, muffling the laugh that accompanied her obvious irritation.

"Be good," she commanded and I sighed, closing my eyes and turning my head so I could breathe. I mean, I didn't _need _to breathe, of course, but I'd rather not be dead for this, because I get the feeling that massages from Violet Harmon didn't come often and probably didn't come cheap, so I wanted to enjoy this. She slipped her hands under my shirt and I lifted my torso off the bed so she could remove it. She smoothed her palms over the planes of my back, feeling the skin and applying light pressure to my shoulder blades. Her weight shifted forward on my ass as she placed a kiss on the back of my neck.

"I love you," I sighed, as she knuckled the kinks out of my neck.

"Is this good?" She asked, I could hear the nervousness in her voice and wanted to laugh at her, but that wouldn't have helped, even if I were laughing because she was so silly to worry at all.

"It's amazing, Violet," I groaned, relishing the release of tension in my muscles as she worked over them, nimble fingers and just the right amount of pressure on my skin. It was over much too quickly, but I felt pretty tired after it, so burrowed under her duvet. She crawled into my lap on top of the covers, pressing a kiss against my forehead as I slumped against her neck.

"You should take a nap or something, I'm worried about you," she confessed, genuine discomfort in her voice. I was touched that she cared at all.

"Will you stay with me?" I knew how childlike I sounded but I didn't care. She smirked, crawling under the duvet next to me and reaching for the book on her nightstand.

"Sure. You sleep though, okay?" I nodded, reaching up to press a harsh kiss to her cheek before nuzzling down in the sheets that smelled like her and finally napping in the comatose state that was all the dead were capable of.


	22. Bringing up the past

**I'm so, so sorry this is so late. I really don't have a decent excuse for you guys other than procrastination and finals and stuff. But the good news is that the next chapter is also written so I'll have it out in the next couple of days, promise, and I'm starting on the chapter after that, tomorrow, so it'll be out next week. Thanks for your continued patience and encouragement! **

I hadn't been able to get my encounter with Constance out of my head. I know it seems crazy, because that woman was the worst thing that ever happened to me, I mean, she gave me life for Christ sake, but I couldn't stop thinking about her. And Larry. And Addie. The 'family' I'd had. Seeing her again, having an actual conversation with her reminded me of that night, the one that changed everything. It had been like every other, but not quite. I'd been in no mood for the charade but unfortunately Constance was feeling particularly phony that evening.

_-1994-_

"Ladies and gentlemen, the ham." Her fake southern drawl ricocheted around my head.

"Ah, well, it looks lovely." It didn't.

"Now who want's to say grace?" That really drove me over the edge. There was no one on this planet less faithful than my dear mother Constance, and religion was one part of the charade I only had to tolerate at Christmas or when we had guests. There was no one here but us and she was trying to pray. That's what did it.

"Oh mother may I?" I injected as much softness into my voice as I could, smiling at the look Constance shot me.

"Oh of course, son." My skin crawled at the idea of Larry calling me his son. I would never be his son. "I was hoping you'd choose to become part of this family." I ignored his comment, satisfied that I would be allowed to crush this charade alone. I held hands with my mother and Larry across the table though it pained me to do it. A means to an end, I reminded myself over and over.

"Dear God, thank you for the salty pig meat we're about to eat, along with the rest of the indigestible swill. And thank you for our new charade of a family. My father ran away when I was only six, if I'd known any better I would have joined him." Constance dropped my hand and slapped it hard enough to sting, and I knew I'd been successful in my mission to ruin the evening's charade, at least for her… but there is no harm in making sure it sticks, is there? "And also because she's been trying to get back in this house ever since she lost it, Lord, a big thank you for blinding the asshole that's doing my mother, so that he can't see what everybody knows… she doesn't really love him." I was rather proud of this one, and I glanced across the table to see Addie smiling warmly.

"Amen." There was hope for her yet. Constance sparked up a cigarette and for a moment I thought she might burn my hand with it, before remembering that however deadly she was, she was a woman to whom presentation and appearance meant everything, and the scar the burn would leave would raise questions in a way bruises didn't.

"Ha," Larry clapped his hands together and leaned forward. He probably fancied himself the head of the household now, probably saw me as his responsibility now, his child. "Now Tate, we know that you've had a hard time making the adjustment with all the recent changes, moving back in here after the… the tragedy that my own family went through-" I cut him off before my blood boiled right over and spilled out like I thought it might.

"They burned themselves alive after you were cheating on your wife with Constance, Lawrence." I spat each word through gritted teeth and I heard Constance choke a little on her smoke, appalled that I'd finally said it out loud, but Larry wasn't having any of it. His denial and delusion ran too deep for me to penetrate now.

"Oh but, that was nobodies fault. Passion drove her to it, one day you'll understand. There are sacrifices, you have to make in the name of love." Constance really had stuffed him so full of her bullshit he couldn't see right from wrong anymore. How sad. "On a lighter note, I have reserved tickets for everybody for Saturday at our community theatre for the opening night of Brigadoon; I'm delighted to be debuting in the chorus." What a ridiculous idea, everyone dressing up to go and watch Larry make a fool of himself in a new way and watch Constance fish around for something more appealing when his back is turned. No, thank you.

"Well I for one, shall be there with bells on." Of course she will. Doing her duty to keep the family in this goddamn house.

"Thank you darling for being so supportive and encouraging. You have allowed me to explore another facet of myself." For sure, the facet of himself that happens to be a spineless piece of shit. Justice is served, almost.

"Yay, I love the theatre!" Not her. Constance could go and pretend to love Larry and keep up appearances, but not Addie. Not her. I smashed my fist down, aiming for the solid impact of the table but hitting my plate instead, cracking it into pieces with my knuckles and feeling little pieces of porcelain lodge in my skin.

"No Addie! You're a smart girl; you know he killed our brother!" I knew it would upset her but it was too late for me to stop now. I had to get it all out, over and over, or I would explode from the guilt.

"Stop it!" Somehow, over the course of the conversation Constance had become almost manic, and her voice was even more shrill than usual. "Beau died in his slumber of natural causes. Now you know he had a respiratory ailment. You're brothers in a better place. He suffered with every breath that he took!"

"He only suffered because of you." I was crying tears I didn't know I had the capacity to produce, because I hated her so completely.

"Hah. You know Tate unlike your siblings you were graced with so many gifts. How is it that you can't bring yourself to use them? Just a smile, or a kind word could open the gates to heaven." That was the point I knew this would come round to, the point that every conversation ended up at which proved perfection and appearances were the only things that mattered to her. It was a comfort in a way. I knew how to handle this. I wiped my nose, smiling at her in the most beautiful way I knew how. I'd practices it in the mirror. I leaned across the table a little, making it clear I was talking to her and her alone.

"No matter how much you want it, I will never be your perfect son." Her hands were shaking as she brought them down to the tablecloth and I stood up, stalking upstairs to begin planning the final promise I had to keep.

The moment I shut my bedroom door she appeared. She'd been waiting for me to arrive.

"I need him to feel my pain," she mumbled and I nodded. I'd heard it a million times, awake and asleep and in my head. I'd do anything to make the voice stop.

"I know, he will. Tomorrow, Lorraine, I promise. Tomorrow, he'll feel your pain. He'll pay for what he did to you, and the girls." She smiled at me, vacant, and disappeared. I hoped it would help enough to bring her back to this world, to make her a mother to her children again. They were scared and alone in the basement without her, but she was so focused on Larry that she was never there to help the. There was only so much I could do, a strange older boy who loses his temper a lot. I thought about getting some sleep but couldn't, every time I closed my eyes the fire would sear behind my eyelids and I'd jerk awake. I eyed the drawer in my desk, knew it contained the fine white powder that would make everything run a little smoother for a while. Okay. I kept myself alert, blinking to keep my eyes from getting heavy; smacking my alarm clock off the moment the metal began to blare a song I barely recognised anymore. I dropped to the floor and shuffled a little under my bed, releasing the array of ammunition I'd been storing up since the first night she came to me, on fire, and begged me to help her make them all pay. They had to feel her pain.

I still had an hour before Larry was due into work, so I took the bus to the beach. In the clear light of the early morning, with the house behind me and the guns beside me, what I'd planned seemed crazy. Just for a moment, I wondered what it would be like to get out. To get out of this house and away from this fucked up little charade of a family. A couple walked by, right along the waters edge, a dog running about in front of them. The man put his arm around the woman's waist, pulling her closer. It was like something off the front of a postcard. I bit my lip as I watched them, wondering what it would be like if I were to live. Like that? Would I go to college, get married, have kids? Maybe. Maybe I should hold off on the plan altogether? I've kept Lorraine at bay this long; I could do it a little longer. I could graduate. I would get out, make something of my life. I stood up, looking out at the ocean and for the first time smiling a genuine smile, the beauty and sparkle on the water reflected in my eyes. I scooped up the guns, intent on throwing them away and forgetting about it all.

I got, probably, two blocks. Two fucking blocks towards home before I heard the sound. It was a little whimper and the sound of glass breaking. I peered around the mouth of the alley the sound had come from, taking one step in. I had a handgun stored in my coat pocket, I could probably get it out real quick without anyone noticing so long as I was careful. Then I'd be a hero, anyways.

"Hello?" The whimpering stopped, and I moved further into the alley. I heard a rustle from behind the dumpsters against the wall and stopped, before calling out again. "Hello, are you okay?" Suddenly I was thrown to the ground by a heavy-set person in black clothing, simply knocking me to the ground as he ran past me. I spun to see him launch out of the alley. He was big, really big. He didn't make that whimpering noise. I knew before I looked, but I had to check anyway. Around the back of the dumpster lie a shaking heap of bare, pale flesh splashed with the sickly red of blood. The woman's clothing had been ripped; she was young, lying there, eyes vacant and throat slit. I grit my teeth, my resolve hardening again. How could I have been so stupid as to think the world might be kinder to me than to anyone else? This young woman was dead, what was her crime? Karma didn't exist, because there would be no justice for her, would there? Nothing could bring her back. I straightened up, careful not to touch her, before turning, out of the alley and walking resolutely up the path to the nearest pay phone.

"411 cabs, can I help?"

"Yeah, I need a cab as soon as possible," I gave the receptionist my details and sat down on the kerb, trying to look as innocent as possible. The taxi arrived just ten minutes later, and I got in and gave directions to Larry's offices, with instruction to wait for me outside.

"Heading in to see your dad, kid?"

"Yeah, I'll only be a couple of minutes. He forgot his lunch this morning, it's the third time this week and mom will go crazy if she finds out he forgot again," I laughed and the driver chuckled.

"Alrighty, here we are. School next, I take it?"

"That's right. Thanks," I leaned down to smile at the driver through the window before turning and entering the building. The receptionist looked up at me when I came in through the doors, but didn't say anything. I smiled at her and she smiled back, probably putting two and two together and assuming I was somebody's son. I stepped into the elevator; glad it was empty and waited, waited, waited for the little ping above the door that opened Larry's floor to me. I walked up between office monkeys in their cubicles, no one paid me any attention at all, either consciously or subconsciously choosing to ignore the red gas canister in my hand, rationalising it as something else.

I opened the door to Larry's glass office.

"Tate, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?" He looked up at me, expression open. He didn't suspect a thing, even when the angel of justice was staring him in the face. Did he really believe he wasn't guilty?

"I'm going right after."

"After what?" He looked at me a moment longer, but, sensing I wasn't going to reply right then and being the oh so busy man that he was, he went right back to work, clack, clack, clicking away at his little keyboard. I sprung into action, tipping all the fuel in the canister over him. He coughed and spluttered and tried to bling the sting and smell from his senses, but stopped dead when I sparked a match. He looked like he was about to try and plead with me, but stopped himself, remaining silent and ready to face his fate head on. He knew he deserved it.

I flicked the match and it caught against him, sending him up in flames. The cheap suits he wore must have been real flammable. I left quickly but confidant that I would not be stopped. I was right.

"Hey kid, find your dad okay?" The taxi driver beamed at me as I climbed back into the car, unaware as to what I'd just done. It was thrilling in its own way, the deception. Like being the wolf in sheep clothing everyone warns you about.

"Yeah, he was really grateful that I covered for him. Said he owes me." I smiled back at him through his rearview mirror.

"Ah, that's good, that's good. You better hold him to it!" The driver joked and I laughed.

"Oh yeah, I definitely will."

"School now, buddy?" The pet names were starting to piss me off but I tolerated them. He was a nice man and I didn't want to raise any suspicion. The next instalment of the plan was key to ruining Constance's life, which was, ultimately and selfishly, my main goal.


	23. Soldier to War

I throw a hand around her mouth, she struggles and kicks out as I drag her back, but when I push her to the wall and let her see my face in the semi-gloom, whispering a 'shhhh' to keep her dad from coming she stills.

"Just listen to me, listen. Don't be mad. I love you. Spend the day with me. We can play Scrabble if you want, I'll even let you win." I take my hand away from her mouth, knowing she'd given in the moment I tarnished the words 'I love you' as a means to keep her here. She sighed.

"I can't, I promised my dad…"

"So go tomorrow. It's not like they're going to miss you for one more day." There was still uncertainty in her eyes and I knew she was going to say something more to get herself out of my grasp, so I did the only other thing I knew could stop her from thinking and leave her a slave to her more carnal instincts. I glanced down at her lips, a warm, inviting pout, and kissed her, forcefully.

"Come on, Violet," I whispered, breath against her mouth, and she sighed, smiling and shaking her head a little in defeat.

"One condition," she mumbled as I pulled away from her.

"Hmmm," I was lost in the heady rush of her breath on my mouth.

"We get to play everything I want, all day." She crossed her arms and quirked her eyebrow up, daring me to deny her. Didn't she know there was nothing I could deny her? I grinned, lacing her fingers with mine and pulling her up the stairs, passing by her room in favour of the attic, a place with fewer bad memories, a place Dr Harmon wouldn't come looking for his little girl. As I pulled down the door to release the attic steps, I heard a knock on the front door. My baser instincts pulled me down the hall, but I resisted them, deciding to find out who it was later, when Violet was preoccupied. I watched her ass sway a little as she climbed the steps, unashamed until she turned and gave me a knowing smirk, flushing my face rosy.

"Jeez Langdon, I know I'm hot but you can put your tongue away now." Her fierce little fire was flickering happily beneath the surface of her affectionate gaze now, and I knew I'd made the right choice all along. She could be happy here… I made her happy.

Violet began setting up a chessboard, and I took this as the perfect moment to excuse myself and investigate what was happening in the rest of the house.

"I'm just going to check something, I'll be right back." She turned, mouth open ready to question my hasty excuse, but I was already half down the ladder so she gave up, turning back to the board with a little hum of acknowledgement. The first thing I noticed when I hit the landing, was the silence. Harmon had definitely answered the door, but there was no one here, now. I slipped down to his office, peering in, and saw that Ben was indeed alone, but the house felt on edge, humming with the energy of a new life, a foreign being. So where. Were. They? Ben wouldn't allow his patients to wander the house alone, we were too dangerous for that. So who? Why? I stopped, my dead mouth drying up at the sight of the van parked outside the house. Nothing parked outside the house, not directly, and when things parked near, they didn't stay long and they certainly, never, ever opened their back doors and funnelled tubing through the gates. The van had a faded 'Phil's Exterminators' label on the side and I remembered suddenly the truancy officer sent round mentioning a fly problem, and Ben's embarrassed glance at the infestation coming up through the floorboards. But he wouldn't do that, would he? He wouldn't send someone down there, into the underbelly of the house…

I fucking new Harmon would send that exterminator down into the basement. I didn't even feel sorry for the guy, I mean, Jesus Christ, who goes snooping around other people's crawl spaces. I stayed a few paces in front of him, just far enough away to be able to attack at the needed moment, but still invisible. I hoped he'd stop further along the way, content that the source of the problem would be one of Thaddeus' left over carcases, but he continued, spouting some bullshit about being the king of the rodents or whatever, which pissed me off. I mean, killing defenceless animals for no reason? Who was he to judge what was a pest? His torch shone down onto Violet's rotten corpse, but he didn't see me, crouched beside her protectively. He didn't see me until he'd stumbled back a few paces, safely far away enough for me to spring on him without damaging her crumbling form.

"Phil!" I yelled it right in his face, making sure he understood. "You're a murderer. You need to stay and repent for the countless innocent lives you've stolen!" He was breathing heavily, pathetic, and I knew he wouldn't put up a fight against me. I rammed his own portable gas chamber down his throat and held it there until he stopped thrashing. I knew he wouldn't cause me any trouble, he was too confused. He'd probably crawl around here forever, unaware that he's dead and looking for a way out. Thaddeus would probably eat him, over and over again, too. I didn't feel sad about that. I heaved myself out of the crawlspace, brushing year's worth of dust from my clothing and making my way towards the stairs again. I didn't' want to think about the consequences of what I'd just done, considering there would surely be consequences. Someone would come looking, from the outside.

I decided to check on Ben, too, to make sure he hadn't heard anything. Not that he would have, I knew what I was doing. Killing people quietly was sort of my speciality, though I don't mean to boast or anything. He was leaning back in his chair, on the phone and completely oblivious to what was going on. I turned, satisfied that he posed no immediate threat to the next instalment in our day, when the subject of his conversation jumped out at me, catching me off guard and filling me with a possessive, all-consuming rage I hadn't felt since Beau died. I began climbing the attic steps, willing my face into a sympathetic, innocent mask that I knew she would fall for. The news I was about to give Violet would make her fall, it was imperative that she fell on my side.

"Where've you been? Just took your rook. Checkmate in thirteen moves." I almost lied to her. She looked so carefree, so happy to see me, I almost lied. But I can't protect her forever, especially not from her father. For as long as she loves him. "What's wrong?"

"He wants to separate us. He's gunna send you away." I made my voice a deadpan.

"What're you talking about?" I had her full attention now, chessboard and triumph forgotten.

"I just heard him talking on the phone with a boarding school, asking about financial packages." The inevitable happened. Violet began to cry, starting with a little quiver of her bottom lip and progressing to watering eyes. She was a fierce girl all the time, but she cried a fair bit, too. I chalked it up to her being a passionate person, and her emotions made me love her more.

"Makes sense." She shrugged through the wavering in her own voice, upper lip curling. "He sent mom away. I don't know why I thought I was safe. I just assumed I was his little girl. What a fantasy. I'm so stupid and naive sometimes. Of course he's gunna send me away too." She hunched in on herself, a habit she probably picked up through years of being neglected and ignored by her parents when she was hurting. Though I hated to see her in pain, this was perfect. This was better than I could have ever imagined. Violet was turning herself against her father quicker that I ever would have been able to.

"There's nothing stupid about you. And I won't let him send you away." I leaned in, taking her face in my palm and turning her eyes to mine. She sighed, leaning her head into my touch. I shuffled towards her, pulling her against me.

"I don't want to leave you, Tate." She mumbled, pressing her face into the space between my neck and my jaw.

"You won't have to. Violet," I pulled her away so I could burn my sincerity into her. "I love you. It's you and me, together, for always, okay?" She nodded, leaning in to press her lips against mine. I groaned into the kiss for a moment, turned on by her vulnerability, her need to be near me and to please me, before pulling away and setting my jaw tight. "I won't let him. Stay here." I wriggled out from underneath her, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before marching resolutely to the attic trapdoor again, like a soldier to war.

The suit itched my skin but I persevered, letting the mask take over as he had so many times before, hiding behind its menace. Ben Harmon was a tank; he wouldn't go down, though the chloroform I'd used had been assured to knock him out in one go. He threw me off and got as far as the bedroom, grabbing a lamp to hit me with.

"You raped my wife! You raped my wife! You raped my wife" Each declaration was punctuated with a blow from the lamp, but I barely felt it in the suit made of darkness and I knew he was headed for a breakdown because each time he uttered those words, Ben Harmon was reminded that he had let his wife down, he hadn't believed her. He tried to pull the latex from my face, yelling "Show me your face! Who are you? Who are you?" I threw him to the wall before he found the zipper on the back, it was important that he didn't see me, for Violet's sake. He crashed into a bookcase, violently, and I revelled in it a moment before pulling him up by his arms and dragging him back across the floor. I knocked his face against the desktop, making sure it wasn't hard enough to kill him, but I didn't even succeed in knocking him out because he struggled to get up even when I'd dropped him to the floor. I recovered the chloroform handkerchief again, not sure it would still be strong enough to have any effect, and pushed it under her nose and over his mouth as I held him up against me. I was glad we were in front of a mirror, enjoyed the sight of him struggling against me. This was my revenge, my personal revenge, for all the shit he'd put Violet through, and, of course, for trying to stop me seeing her. He struggled, slapping uselessly at the back of my head and I almost smiled, but what would be the point without him able to see it? Before I could register what was happening, though, his fingers found purchase on enough of the zipper to pull my mask off, ripping the second skin away and leaving me open. I met his eyes in the mirror, grim in a silent challenge.

"Tate?" He hesitated, woozy from the lack of oxygen I was providing with a tight arm under his chin, before remembering. "Violet! Vi, Vi," his protests were cut off and slurred as he faded into unconsciousness, and I shoved him back to the floor. I needed to scare him.

"The only reason I'm not killing you," I growled into his ear, "is for her. Now you just take a little nap, and it'll all be over." I don't know why I added that last sentiment, but when inspiration strikes, who am I to question it?

Violet probably heard the commotion, and I'd have to come up with an excuse fast, if I wanted her to trust me.

She was waiting for me in the attic.

"What did you do to him?"

"I just convinced him to leave us alone for an hour or so,"

"Tate, what did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything bad! I just scared him a little, he'll be fine, but we're running out of time."

"You're being weird, time for what?"

"I figured out how to keep them from sending you away."

"You mean run away?"  
>"Kind of. Yeah. I love you, Violet. And I want you to be happy, and free. If we take these," I held up a little, unthreatening bottle of pills, "we can stay here. We can play with Beauregard, we can play games, watch videos, we can be together, forever."<p>

"You want us to commit suicide?" Her voice was breathy, and I knew she was considering it. She got off on the macabre and the taboo as much as I did.

"Yeah. I don't think there's enough in here to really, you know, so I think if we use these," I brandished the razors proudly, knowing they would seal the deal because Violet loves razorblades.

"Where did you get those pills."

"Your dad has a lot of samples."

"Did you hurt my dad, Tate?"

"NO! I told you, I just knocked him out! So I could buy us some time… listen to me Violet we can't get all chicken shit about this. We're running out of options!" I'd made her cry, with my shouting.

"Yeah, I get it, it's the only way we can be together," oh she got it, finally. I was so happy, so relieved, that I swooped forward to cup her face in my hands and place a grateful kiss on her lips.

"Like Romeo and Juliet," I was exultant. "I know how to do it so it won't hurt."

"Can we do it in the bathtub?"

"Why?"

"Cuz it's warm, and nice, and I can light some candles."

"Okay. But we have to go now."

"I'll go run the bath."

"Okay." I smiled, so pleased with myself and so proud of her for embracing this. I watched her slowly descend the stairs, taking her languid pace as a sign that she'd accepted our fate and embraced it. She was truly my soul mate. The moment her foot hit the floor, though, her pace quickened into crashing thumps across the landing, clattering down the steps.

"Help! Dad, help, he's trying to kill me!" God fucking damn. "Help!"

"Violet! No!" I launched down the attic steps and through the hall before remembering a faster way and appearing on the lower staircase, where she was looking around and still yelling for her father. She made for the front door, the one place I was praying she wouldn't go, but she did, and she made it to the gates. There were people across the street and I was frozen in fear for a moment, terrified that they would see her and that she would have mastered the trick of appearing to those outside the house, but she hadn't because they didn't look up at her, their dog barked at her but he couldn't really see her so much as sense that something was wrong, and I sighed in relief though my guts were tearing in anguish at the sounds of her panic and her fear. She got the gates open and ran through, only to run back in through the backdoor where I was waiting for her, crouched in a corner. She was crying heavily and I wanted nothing more than to smother her to stop the screaming but I couldn't.

"What's happening? What did you do to me?" I approached carefully, hands palm down like you'd approach a wild animal.

"You have to stop. Let's just do what we said we would," I was almost chasing her round the kitchen island now, trying in vain to remedy the situation without the inevitable.

"Dad where are you? Help me!" She ran back out into the hall and towards the front door.

"Violet!" I cried out, desperate to make her stop. "Stop running!" Though of course this would do nothing but create emotional ghost baggage later. I lost count of how many times she ran out the front door and in through the back, and I don't think she was really aware of how many times it had happened, either. Ghosts don't deal with change well. Eventually she stopped, turning back to look at the kitchen door and letting out a confused, shuddery breath. She ran her fingers through her hair to rake it back, but it didn't turn me on like it usually did because she was sad. I came around the corner, bored of this game, and faced her.

"Please Tate, please, I don't wanna die," my heart broke because she was scared of me, but I had to turn my emotions off right now. Violet needed me to guide her.

"It's too late for that." She cried harder, slumping down to sit on a lower step and clutching her head on either side. She stared at the floor and I didn't want to think that she could give up so easily. I sank down in front of her, forcing her to meet my gaze.

"Violet, listen to me."

"Why am I running around like a crazy person? Did you drug me?"

"I'm not gunna hurt you. I have to show you something. And then you're free to go wherever you want. I promise I won't stop you." I stood up, reaching a hand out to her. "You have to trust me."

She looked down at my hand for a long, tense moment, and I thought she might shove past me and start to run again, but she took my hand and I closed my eyes, knowing she'd given in and would stay mine. I would not be blamed for this, not really. When we reached the basement door she pulled away from me, clearly unsure about entering, but I tugged her along. "Like I said, Violet, you have to trust me. Just for a little while." I didn't try to smile at her or touch her anywhere but her hand and she bit her lip before proceeding over the threshold and into the dank basement where the air was always so much colder.

I pulled the light on in the storage room and opened the doors to the crawlspace, leaving Violet slumped against the wall.

"I feel weird, like I'm losing It." she commented, voice still breathy in a way that was turning me on a little. I turned to face her when I could trust my expression was neutral, but couldn't think of anything to say until she'd seen what she had to see. I dragged a chair under the entrance and climbed up, flicking a torch on and urging her in with a gentle "c'mon." I shuffled in front of her down the narrow passageway, turning my head every once in a while to make sure she was still there. The fact that she was says more about her than if she wasn't, and gave me hope for the future. Any girl who would follow the boy trying to 'kill' her into a basement crawlspace already has a death wish, after all. A little along the way she screamed, and I spun to shine my torch in the direction she was looking. Seeing that the grimy object posed no threat to her, she hit the ground in irritation and I smiled at how feisty she could still be.

"It's so disgusting down here," she sobbed, and I forgave her for her distaste of my home due to the stress she was under. We'd finally reached the mouth of her tomb, and I jumped down.

"Okay come on," I held a hand out to support her as she jumped down next to me, and we took a few steps before I turned to block her path.

"Close your eyes. And remember, everything's gunna be okay. I love you." I turned back around and led her the few steps around to her corpse. I shone my torch onto it, wishing it was more preserved than this because even I was a little horrified by the level of decomposition. I sighed. "Open your eyes." I waited, apprehensive, predicting her breakdown before it happened but not knowing how to react. She finally looked down when her eyes had readjusted to the darkness, and her wail of anguish made tears prick automatically in my eyes.

"No!," She stepped back, and I tried to think of the words to make it better, but there were none. She pulled her hair back through her fingers, the air leaving her in a huff of breath. "I died when I took all those pills."

"I tried to save you," my voice had never sounded so miserable. "I did. I tried to make you throw them up. You threw up some, not enough." Another wail from her had my voice breaking on my own sob. "You took so many, Violet. You died crying. I held you. You were safe. You died… loved." I didn't think it would help but she needed to know I was still here for her, all the same.

"I hardly feel anything," she shuddered in a breath and I turned to follow with my light and my feet as she moved out of sight of the body.

"I didn't want you to find out this way Violet, you or your parents. I had this idea that if you chose to die, with me, you wouldn't be so sad. I never wanted you to see this." Her sobs were breaking off into hiccups and I knew the worst was over, for now. "I'm so sorry, Violet," I moved in, unable to stay away from her anymore, and held her against my chest. Her arms slowly slid around me, she more fully, willingly pressed her face into my shirt.

"I don't want to be here anymore Tate," she breathed and I nodded against her hair, tugging her back towards the light.

"Kay. Lets go back upstairs, to our room. I'll even let you pick what we listen to." That coaxed a small smile out of her. I was grateful that I still had the power to make her happy, even now she knew the truth.

"So, all this time I thought I was protecting you, but you were protecting me." Her expression was unreadable, but the curve of her lips disarmed any fears I might have had. She didn't blame me in all of this.

"That's all I ever wanted to do, since I first saw you."

"So why'd you keep it a secret?"

She was so good, so inherently decent, she didn't understand the shit, the cruelty the world can throw at a person. She's just really, really lucky I got to her first. I may be a monster, but at least I love her. "Hi, I'm Tate, I'm dead. Wanna hook up? I don't think so." She came to stand behind me for a moment, running the tips of her fingers across my shoulders before sitting next to me so I could deal.

"I still don't remember dying. Do you?"

"Nope."

"What happens now?"

"You draw a card, and then discard." I hoped she could leave it at that, because for once I didn't have the answer. I knew how it would be for me, heaven trapped in a cell, but my heaven depended on her.

No, I mean, like how's it gunna be?" I shrugged, trying to seem as though I hadn't given it much thought, like a person with nothing to hide would.

"Just like this. Like it's always been. It's you and me. Together for always." I flashed her my most radiant smile and she returned it. I'd always had this effect on people.


	24. Ladykiller

**We're nearing the end of this fic, I'd probably say there are about 5 more chapters up, and I promise they will all be up at regular intervals! Plus, it's early days right now but I've got a pretty new idea I'm excited about working on after this, so I'm not disappearing again, promise! Big love to the special few who keep me going!**

I don't know when I became so good at convincing people. Women, really. I was charismatic, sure, but there was more to it. Even as a child I'd learnt to gravitate towards women, to win their approval, by any means necessary. I think I blame Constance. I knew I had to find Nora. Now that Violet was here with me forever, and had accepted it, and didn't blame me, I really, really needed to find Nora and tell her I couldn't get her a baby. As I descended the basement steps a flash of rusted yellow caught my eye and I crossed the room to pick up an ancient, decaying toy truck I'd abandoned down here when I was just a little child.

1984. Mother was drunk again, I was playing in the basement, with my truck. The door had opened with a creak, inviting me down, so I went. I pushed the truck and it went far, far, under a table. I crawled underneath to retrieve it, and was confronted by a monster. The first time I'd met Thaddeus that's all he had been. I didn't know he was Nora's baby. I didn't know he was really kind of harmless when you got to know him. He was, after all, an infant. He'd be an infant forever. But, that doesn't mean he wouldn't have tried to eat me then. I was a living child. A woman grabbed me from behind, cradling me against her and shooing the creature away by uttering a "No, Thaddeus! Go away!" I shrunk back into her, grateful for the maternal protection she offered. She had saved me where my mother could not.

"Shh, tell me, what's your name?" She knelt in front of me, and I was shocked by the fact that she was actually focused on me. She wasn't glancing up to see if her TV show was back on. Her fingers were stroking comfortingly against my shoulders, not itching their way towards a cigarette box.

"T-Tate," I stammered.

She smiled, pleased I'd found my voice. "If Thaddeus comes back to scare you again, just shut your eyes, and say 'go away'. You understand, Tate? He'll mind you, cuz I'm going to protect you." She smoothed the hair away from my face, in a gesture so maternal it made my insides ache.

"I wish you were my mommy," I whispered, half afraid she would reject me as my own mother had. But she didn't.

"Now, dry your tears, child," she thumbed at the salty, cold tracks on my cheeks. "Life is too short for so much sorrow." I'd never forget those words, even when they weren't true anymore.

I reminded her of them now, as I picked up the truck and followed the quiet sounds of her sobbing. She was as dainty as ever, but her eyes held no recognition for the man I'd become, nor the boy I'd been.

"Who are you?: She asked, holding her handkerchief away from her face a little.

"It's me, Tate." I knew it was pointless to introduce myself, really, but I had to. There would always be a flicker of hope inside of me that one day I'd be enough to snap her out of the loop she was on. "Life's too short for so much sorrow," I added.

"You're wrong," she was shaking her head. "It's an eternity. Just endless days and nights of longing, 'where's my baby?" she returned to her handkerchief and I sighed, knowing of course that the topic was coming up but sad that it had come so soon.

"That's what I wanna talk to you about." Recognition flashed briefly in her eyes as she looked at me, standing.

"You- you promised me one. You made one, with, her, the lady of the house-" I cut her off suddenly with a "Vivien!" Feeling that I had to defend the woman who brought Violet into the world. She deserved nothing but respect for that gift alone. "That's Violet's mother, and I can't give you that baby anymore. Everything's changed Nora. I'm in love with Violet." I could feel my eyes welling up at the expression on her face. It was one I'd seen too often on Constance's face. Disappointment, with something livid and dangerous brewing under the surface. Nora may be confused, but I couldn't forget that she was here for a reason. She'd put a bullet through her husband's brain, and one through her own, and that takes a certain kind of person. She would be trouble now.

"I see," her voice was lower.

"I just can't, take her brother away," I willed her to understand, but I knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"But I can." There it was. "And I will." She stepped towards me and placed her hand on my cheek, the way that she did when I was little. I wanted to lean into her touch, but didn't. "That baby is mine." There was a seriousness to her voice that I knew wasn't worth arguing with. I wouldn't win. I think it would be an understatement to say my mind was elsewhere that afternoon. I tried, really tried, to focus on Violet, hoping that she'd give me some little sliver of light to grasp onto to forget the basement, but she was struggling with her own worries.

"What's gunna happen when they get back… what do I say?" She was anxious, pacing around and unable to settle. I didn't look up at her, afraid to say the wrong thing. I was trying to figure out new things on her laptop, anyway. I felt the mattress drop a little under her weight. "It's not Utube, with a u, it's YouTube, Y-O-U."

"Oh." I corrected the deliberate mistake, grateful that she'd noticed, hoping for a change of subject. She didn't need to know that I'd mastered YouTube a while ago.

"If they find out I killed myself they'll go insane. Literally, for real this time. I mean, they can't know." Poor Violet. She was living in denial of course, but I didn't know exactly how to say that without coming across as the bad guy. I couldn't deal with any more women I care about hating me today.

"Well you can't control it forever. I mean, it is what it is, Violet." I kept my eyes trained on the screen, praying that the fallout wouldn't be too intense. I felt her eyes on me, knew her mouth would be set into a hard little line like a challenge, but continued clacking away at the keys I was slowly becoming familiar with. It's strange; when I first encountered Violet's laptop I thought I'd never get the hang of it. Watching the way her fingers flew over the keys to create words, to converse with people way, way across the country, made the years between us feel like centuries. But I'd picked it up, slowly but surely. I could almost type as fast as her now, but I made sure to keep my movements slow and unsure so she wouldn't get suspicious about how much time I actually spent on here. I hadn't worked out how to delete the Internet history yet.

"One of these days this computer will be obsolete. People will have microchips implanted in their brains or something. We won't be able to watch YouTube or anything; we'll be like all the others here. Prisoners in a windowless cell. Whose gunna show me the new ways of the world? Nobody here's happy Tate." I did not like her tone, not one bit. She sounded almost, resolved to her fate, which was good, but it was the fate of, her words, a prisoner. She wasn't a prisoner, I had to let her know that. Because as far as I can tell, anyone who believes like that around here end up losing their minds.

"Yeah but they're not like us. They're lonely. We have each other." I took her hand, thumbing over her knuckles in the way I knew she liked. She ran her own thumb over the silver ring I never took off.

"We'll never have kids." It was a passive bombshell, the words I knew she'd been thinking the moment she realised she was in love with me. The subject every girl ends up thinking about as they transition from girl to woman. And the subject to which we were forever barred from in a very literal way. I opened my mouth, ready to provide some soothing, semi-useful token of affection to placate, her, but was cut off by a clatter coming from the hall. Usually we'd ignore this sort of thing, but it was coming from the spare room… the room that had been empty and dusting since that bastard Larry murdered his family, and the thought of someone being in there wasn't… right, somehow. It clearly didn't sit well with Violet, either, even if she wasn't sure why not, but her face was troubled, and we rose simultaneously and made for the door.

"Who asked you to decorate the nursery?" Violet sneered out, propped in the entranceway to the room. I hovered just behind her, glaring murderously at the fucking faggot printing stupid animal shapes onto the wall.

"Let me break it down for you, sweetheart." Fag 1 said, his too queer voice rattling in my ears and making me want to smash things. "This is our house, and we're having twins." Oh, he did not.

"Whose your surrogate, one of those nurses in the basement?" She hadn't caught on yet, but it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. There was no way I could distract her enough to leave now. I considered just taking all my clothes off, but that would probably make her uncomfortable more than horny and hell, it might even get the queers interested, which was something I so did not want.

"No, No," the effeminate one I'd never bothered to learn the name of said, mocking, as he climbed down off the ladder. "A very, very human surrogate, Elvira! Your lovely mother." Bullshit. I could feel Violet quiver a little, and knew that if I didn't speak up now this could go really badly.

"You think you can just steal those twins? You pathetic homos couldn't steal the shit outta your own ass." I crossed my arms and Violet leaned back into me, almost imperceptibly, as a way of thanking me for the support. The two men laughed and I saw blackness licking at the edges of my vision.

"You know what? It doesn't matter, as soon as my parents get back we're leaving here," half a second, "they're leaving. So knock yourselves out." I internally groaned at the mistake she'd made, and felt my heart break a little at the correction she'd been forced to make. It was all my fault.

"Honey, your parents aren't going anywhere as long as you're stuck here." I thought about slicing his jugular open and writing her name on the wall.

"And don't you get all snotty little sister, you'll be begging to babysit. As big as this place is it does get very, very lonely." Queer two spoke up for the first time, and I registered his eyes flick across my face just once as he stood.

"It could get ugly though." Queer one again, his voice breathy with amusement. "Were you a C-section? Is there an existing zipped we might use?" Violet tensed again, and I felt that instinct to jump in ahead of her and save her from feeling the rage, the malice that I was so used to.

"Watch it you goddamn queen. "

"Oh, I am quaking in my loafers. What are you gunna do? Murder me?" The look he gave me was too smug for my liking. All I had was fear. If I couldn't have people like me, then they feared me. That was the rules. Violet shoved past me and stormed down the stairs. I went to follow, but turned, realising this may be my only chance to talk to these two alone.

"I'd kill for her. I have killed for her. Don't give me a reason."

"We're already dead, Bates. What can you really do," the first guy sneered, flicking his wrist in a gesture so cliché that I had to act. It would have been a crime not to. I grabbed his wrist, and with one quick twist, snapped it. He howled, shoving into me in an attempt to free himself from my grasp. His partner stood, made a move to come to the rescue, but then stopped, cocking his head to the side and just watching. I pulled queer one up to my level.

"You would be surprised how much you can suffer without dying. If you hurt Violet, directly or otherwise, I would simply _love_ to spend the next ten," twist and click of the broken wrist, "twenty," locking my fingers tightly into his short, styled hair and ripping a decent clump out at the roots, "maybe even fifty years showing you all the things I can do." I dropped him, dusting the strands of bloody hair from my hands on my jeans and letting him sag to the floor, cradling his wrist. I glanced up at the other one, Patrick, and saw him palming himself through his jeans. That sick fucking bastard. I stored the information away for future use. Knowing people's kinks was almost as valuable in this house as knowing secrets. With the flowing, freeing feeling of suffering coursing through my veins there was pep in my step as I made my way downstairs to find Violet, sure that I'd fixed at least one problem today.

There is a psychic in the house. I could feel the pull of her the moment my feet touched the ground in the foyer. The house didn't like it.

"But what do we do about the gays, how do we get rid of them?" My mother was here, sticking her nose in where it didn't belong.

"There might be a way," The psychic, I presume, considering the way her voice echoed in my mind. The house was really, really unhappy right now. "I can't promise- He can't be here." She'd cut herself off the moment my feet had passed over the threshold into the room. She hadn't even had to turn around.

"Tate."

"Billie, that's my boy. That's Tate." Constance brought the psychic woman into the house? Of course she did, when didn't she bring problems for me?

"I wanna help." I mumbled, talking more to the house than to anyone in the room. Violet looked confused and Constance looked guilty and uncomfortable and the psychic, 'Billie' looked pissed off. She couldn't know, she couldn't know, she couldn't-

"You've helped enough." Oh yeah, she knew.

"Now, now, Tate. Go on." My mother's voice was cheery on the surface but the tension in the room was welling up in her and Violet's expression was becoming less confused and more worried with every passing second, so I decided to quit whilst I was ahead and left. After all, if the psychic was in cahoots with my mother, and hadn't spilled the beans to Violet yet, the chance was that she won't.

I was pacing in Violet's room, gnawing on fingernails that would grow back moments after I'd ripped them off. She appeared in the doorway, finally, and I was terrified for a moment that she knew, that the psychic bitch had told her everything. But she wasn't looking at me any different than usual, the stiffness of her posture probably had more to do with stress than anything. I turned to her. "What did she say?"

"We have to get something of his. Something important. An heirloom or a ring. Like a talisman." She looked confused with her own explanation, like she didn't quite believe it. "If we have the talisman and we do this special ritual he'll be gone." I spoke the words she was obviously thinking.

"That sounds like bullshit."

"Billie Deans for real, she studies this stuff. The bigger guy, he wears a ring, it's like a wedding ring, but I can't remember which hand it's on." This wasn't how I wanted things to be, I didn't want her on the psychic bitch's side. She had to be on my side.

"I don't trust her! I mean, why'd she say all that stuff about me? I did something bad, didn't I?" I breathed, giving her the most innocent but concerned look I could manage, knowing that it would, at the very least, draw her attention back to me.

"Lets just get the ring." Her face was blank, she was still trying to protect me. I sighed in defeat, stepping to her and kissing her forehead before passing her.

"I'll get the ring. The blonde guy looks more dangerous, I won't risk you. Besides, me and him have a little history." I grimaced at the memory of our one encounter, but knew I could use it to my advantage. I may have killed the guy, but I was still his type. She nodded and turned to catch my lips in a kiss I hadn't expected, Violet was rarely so bold, but enjoyed all the same.

I cracked the door to the 'nursery', hoping that the blonde guy would be in there, and that he would be alone.

How does it work? Will the kid call you both daddy, or is one of you the mom? I held my hands up as he stood, turning, dangerously coiled. "Just messing with you. Seriously though, are you ready for all this? I mean you never struck me as the diapers and midnight feedings type.

Maybe you should have taken a few minutes to get to know me before you stuck a fire poker up my ass.

Fair enough. Look, we're all gunna be here for a long time, so maybe we could figure out a way to let bygones be bygones and you know, cohabitate.

I'm dead, because of you!

Well there's got to be something I could offer you. I mean, just because we're dead doesn't mean we don't have wants, desires. Marriage looks hard, (I paced towards him, and he turned a little.) especially with that guy. Always on you all the time, and never in the ways you want, right? (face level with crotch now) It must suck to have to wait 'til Halloween every year, t to get a little strange. (he rose up, inclined his face to mine, and then smashed his head into mine, full force. I was knocked to the floor, glad that he'd gone for violence. I would do anything for Violet, but I really didn't want this to turn into a great therapy story one day.

"I can't kill you," he pulled me up the wall by my shirt, "but I can make you suffer!" Punch, punch, I was seeing stars. "The best part is when I'm done you'll heal up and I can beat the shit out of you all over again," he got right in my face and I smiled, eyes unable to focus but feeling the ring slip off his finger where I gripped his hands on the front of my shirt. He punched me again in the stomach before kicking me to the floor, and as he did so his ring slipped right off his finger and clenched into the palm of my hand. I could have disappeared right then and there, but I was having more fun than I'd had in ages, so I didn't.

"Harder," I growled, playing with him, "I like it rough!"

"It's not supposed to be like this," another kick, "I'm not supposed to be here!" He reached down to pull me up again, palms on either side of my face. "Look at me, look at me," I couldn't focus if I tried, my brain was scrambled. "I was gunna get out!" Another punch, and another kick sent me flying into the chest of draws, pulling their painting gear off with a spectacular clatter and a small victory. "I fell in love," this was getting better and better, "God help me, I was gunna get out and be with him and then you killed me and now I'm stuck here, with him!" I was about to black out but I was smiling, because this really had been first class entertainment. I didn't think it could get better, until "Chad,". I looked up to see the other homo standing in the doorway, looking even more pathetic than his partner. He'd heard it all, I guess. Maybe Violet wouldn't need her ritual after all. I couldn't see these two playing happy families now. The blonde rushed away after him and I was left alone, victorious. I opened my palm and examined the plain wedding band, wondering how many times the guy took this off to sneak out and visit the man he truly loved. I wondered where he put the ring when he wasn't playing happy families.

I decided to wait for Violet in our room, considering I didn't know where she was or what she'd managed to find of the other guy's. I sat, cross-legged on the floor, leaning my head against her bed, and watched the door. Is that creepy? Yeah, I'll look super sad if she comes in and finds I've just been sitting here staring at the door as if my whole life revolves around her. I mean, it does, obviously, but she can't know that. I slipped down, lying on the floor in a semi-comfortable position that would look casual enough, and studied the marks on the ceiling to pass the time before she arrived.

When the door burst open, she sauntered in with a more relaxed posture than before, so I knew she'd been successful. I rolled up onto my side in my best playgirl pose, resting my head on my hand.

"What'd you get?"

She held up a watch, a big, tacky looking, shiny gold watch. "He took it off to paint. Why does a ghost need a watch?" I twiddled the stolen ring on my finger, waiting for her to mention it, but a banging on the door and a "Violet?" from her father cut our conversation off. She spun to face the wood, and I stood up, ready to take charge of the situation and protect Violet as best I could.

"You disappeared on me, what happened?" Ben continued to pound at the wood and Violet motioned for me to shoo. "Violet, your mom's waiting in the car, we have a plane to catch." More pounding, and Violet answered the door. I wanted to scream at her not to, but I couldn't without alerting Dr Harmon to the fact that I was there. That would be a very, very bad thing.

"Good, go far away, just don't bring mom in the house." I dropped down and out then, observing as Vivien pulled herself out the car. My harpy of a mother was tottering towards her, and I knew already that the house had won this battle, too. The babies would be born here, and I could never escape my biggest mistake. I couldn't do it, any of it. I couldn't listen to Vivien's cries of pain without remembering the night I'd raped her. I couldn't console Violet with the guilt of what I'd done hanging so heavy on my shoulders. There was no one I could talk to who did not hate me, other than my brother. So I went to the attic.

Beau was so simple, so refreshingly simple, that for a very little while I forgot all about the tragedy unfolding downstairs. The attic was peaceful, and quiet, other than the thudding sound of Beau's ball rolling back and forth between us and once, only once, the high-pitched wail of Vivien giving birth, though whether it was to Ben's monster or mine I didn't know.

Oh, Beau, when did I make such a mess of things?" I sighed, and Beau gurgled. "I never used to be bad, did I?" I stilled the ball with my hand and stared down at the veins running along my knuckles. Beau crossed the distance between us and nudged the ball.

"Play!" He demanded and I sighed, stroking his head a little before giving in and rolling the ball away into the darkness. I waited and waited, but he didn't come back so I assumed he'd forgotten the game or found something better to play. I dropped down into our room again, curling up on her bed in the dark and just waiting for the wrenching, nasty guilt to stop poisoning my guts so I could face Violet again.


	25. Gone

Violet's mother was dying down there. I knew it, I could feel it. The house was groaning and pulling in on itself, ready to accept someone so troubled with such violent death into its family. I didn't want to watch it happen. I didn't know if Violet would watch, or even if she knew her mother was going to die. I didn't know much about how Violet was feeling, inside. Not really. I knew when she was happy because she smiled, and I knew when she was sad because she'd get real quiet, but passed that I didn't really know her at all, not really. I felt the corners of my mouth tug down into a frown at the thought of this, I didn't like it at all. But I would fix that, later, she'd promised I would. I sighed into her pillow, comforting my nerves with the memory of our conversation just hours earlier.

**Tate. **It was as clear as if someone had called my name, it always was. I used to tune it out, the house, or one of the others was always calling on me or thinking about me so determinedly that it would register in my mind, but since Violet died I'd kept a listen out. Even when she was hiding from me, unintentionally of course, I could still find her when she wanted me, or needed me.

I wasn't sure that this voice really was Violet, at all, but I always had to check. It was coming from the basement, so I slipped silently into the darkness. Violet was standing by the grate door of the burner, rolling Patrick's ring on her pinkie finger and chewing her lip. Her shoulders were hunched, a gesture I'd learned to associate with nervousness.

"Hey," I mumbled, and she jumped, turning to face me. The ring dropped to the floor with a delicate clink, and I darted down to pick it up before she'd really registered she'd dropped it. I slipped up her frame, leaning down to press my lips to hers. I knew it probably wasn't really the time or the place, but I couldn't help it. When I couldn't read her, I got worried, and when I got worried, I tried to fix things. This was the best was I knew how.

"Tate," she mumbled against my mouth, palms coming up to rest on my chest and almost-push me away, before she gave up and slipped her hands around my neck to knot in the hair at the nape. I gasped, pressing hot air into her mouth and snaking my tongue passed her lips. She let me, tugging on my hair just like she knew I liked it. I knew we probably couldn't go further now, here, in this basement, when her mother was suffering, about to give birth to my monster and trap herself in this house, but I let myself be caught up in the sensations, in the experience that was Violet Harmon for a few more moments. When she tried to push me away a second time, I let her.

"I needed that," she sighed, pressing her lips to the corner of my jaw once before stepping back, hunching in on herself again but in a less defensive way. I'd kissed some of the tension out of her, so I'd take it as a win.

"Me too. Do you want me to help you with this?" She gnawed on her lip again.

"No, it's okay, I think I should do this alone."

"Why?" I asked, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. Violet never wanted to do things on her own. She needed me to protect her, like I always did.

"It's just… don't take it the wrong way, Tate." She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, in a gesture that reminded me of the way my mother used to dismiss me.

"Well how am I supposed to take it, Violet? You don't want me around? You don't want me to help you?" I could feel myself getting frustrated, and no matter how hard I tried to push the rage down, I couldn't. It was like watching the scene from outside of myself, and I hated that Tate guy. Violet's eyes were watering and her lower lip quivered a little. She wasn't a big crier or anything but today was, understandably, a little emotional for her and her asshole boyfriend yelling at her and making a scene wasn't helping.

"It's just, Billie Dean sa-"

"I don't give a shit what Billie Dean said, okay? She's bullshit, all psychics are bullshit. She was mean about me. I don't trust her. But clearly you do, huh Violet." She flinched.

"Tate, that's not what I'm sayi-"

"I know what you're saying." I wanted to stop myself, I really did, but the house had taken over now. It always did feed off my insecurities as much as my rage, and every insecurity I had ever felt manifested tenfold around Violet. She was perfect, and she was something I was incredibly lucky to have in the first place. I couldn't lose her. Suddenly, her jaw set tight and her eyes narrowed. Her whole body straightened, coiling with the force of the _bitch-out_ I knew I was about to get.

"You know what Tate? Grow the hell up! Oh yeah, you can't because you're dead at seventeen, right? Well guess what? I'm not going to take bullshit from anyone, least of all you. My mom's in trouble, and Chad and Patrick want to take my baby siblings from my parents, and if they do that, then mom and dad will never leave. So excuse me if your _feelings_ aren't the most important thing in my life right now!" She finished, fuming, breathing a little heavy and cheeks a little flushed. My anger broke and I felt my face split into a proud grin.

"You're my fierce little girl, huh," I mumbled, beaming at her. Her brow furrowed in confusion, then shot up towards her hairline.

"No way," she took a step forward.

"What?"

"You _liked_ that, didn't you?" She punctuated her question with a fingertip jab to my chest.

"No, Violet, I'm sorry for yelling, really," I started but she shushed me.

"You liked fighting with me. You liked that _I _yelled at _you_!" She smirked at me and I felt myself pale a little. She'd discovered one of the little things that got me going.

"Maybe," I mumbled, glancing at her and then focusing on the floor. I heard her chuckle, and then felt her fingers on my jaw tilt my face to look at her.

"Let me sort everything out here, with my parents, and with Chad and Patrick and this whole thing. Go wait in our room for me," she pressed a kiss to my lips, "and you can show me just how much you enjoyed our little fight," she licked a slow line along the crease of my lips and I shuddered, letting the taste of her seep deliciously, slowly through my parting lips. I nodded, giving her a serious, meaningful, we're-not-done-here kind of look before heading for the basement steps and disappearing into her room before I'd even reached the door to the ground level.

I heard her footfalls on the steps, fast and determined, and I knew she was coming here, to find me. That cheered me up a little, to know that I was the first person she'd come to for comfort. She entered the room stealthily, and I didn't turn to look at her until I knew she was standing at the railings of her bed. I thought she might climb on and join me, but when she didn't for a long moment I sat up and crawled over to her. My insides ran cold at the deadened expression on her face. She looked harder than I'd ever seen her… probably because, for the first time, that hardness seemed to be directed at me.

"My mom's dead."

"I'm so sorry," I reached for her hand. "I know you were close." She pulled her hand out from under mine. That was a very bad sign.

"Yeah. We were. My dad's down there all alone now."

"That makes me sad. I like your dad. He was nice to me."

"He's nice to all his patients." She spat the word like an insult. "Even the ones who lie to him."

"What?" I didn't know this Violet, couldn't place the direction this conversation was going in. It wasn't safe territory, and all I could think about was the question 'how did she know?' Because, really, how could she possibly know?

"Why did you start seeing him in the first place? Constance thought you needed help."

"I did, I do."

"You knew you were dead." I was taken aback by her knowledge of that, and I knew I needed to play this off very carefully to see how much she knew. I licked my lips, thinking, buying time.

"Yeah."

"Do you know why?" She wasn't trying to shelter me anymore. This was coming out.

"The cops shot me. Right here in this room."

"Why? Why did they shoot you?"

"I don't know."

"You murdered people Tate. Kids, like us! The kids that came to us on Halloween?"

"Why would I do that?" I shook my head. "Why would I do that?" I began to cry, like I practiced, all a routine. "Why would I do that?" I was the king of denial. "No, why would I do that?"

"I don't know. Why'd you kill those guys who lived here before us? Why would you rape my mother?"

"No," I gasped out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was different then."

She scoffed. "I used to think you were like me, that you were attracted to the darkness, but Tate, you are the darkness."

"No, before you, that's all there was. You're the only light I've ever known. You've changed me, Violet."

"I believe that." She placed a hand on my cheek and I leaned into her, indulging in the comfort her touch always brought. "I love you Tate." I smiled, a little bubbling sound of contentment breaking out of my throat at her declaration. I would never tire of hearing it. "But I can't forgive you. You have to pay for what you did, all the pain you caused, all the sorrow. You murdered my mother!" Shit.

"No!" My protest fell on deaf ears, of course, she'd made up her mind. I couldn't convince her otherwise anymore, it was time to start damage control. If I could just isolate the situation I could work out an angle to start on convincing her it wasn't my fault somehow.

"You did! That baby, whatever it was, it killed her. I can't be with you, I won't be with you."

"What are you saying?" I knew what she was saying, but I knew she couldn't mean it. I was all she had, her parents didn't care, and no one else in this house would ever pay her any attention.

"I'm saying go away."

"What, no, don't do this!" I felt the tug of the house, welcoming me back into the mind I used to have, the mind I broke free from when she came. I couldn't go back there, I knew I wouldn't be strong enough to break free again, and without me there, Violet would move on, eventually. She would forget me, and I would have to watch her forever trapped within myself. I would go mad.

"Go away, Tate!"

"You're all I want! You're all I have!"

"Go away!"

"No!" The darkness around me swirled to a tangible rope, jagged with barbs, cutting into the little sheen of light that had surrounded me from the moment I made her smile. At this point I didn't know who I was yelling at, her or it, or the house, or myself. It was all noise, noise, darkness and the pain I thought I'd feel forever. Is this purgatory?

"Go away!"

Gone.


	26. Mind Games

"You're being compressed, that's all." I opened my mouth to retort but it was like my lungs had been filled with lead. It wasn't so painful anymore, but it was definitely uncomfortable. Like drowning when you can't die. I'd done it enough times, drowned myself in the bathtub out of curiosity and sometimes just boredom, and it felt a lot like this. Except this time, I didn't want to do it, and I couldn't see the stained white ceiling through the water and it wasn't where I wanted to be at all, so I struggled.

"You can't talk, during, stupid." I defiantly shut my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that when I opened them I'd be able to see something more than the horrible, ever-present darkness. I tried to move, tried to wiggle my fingertips even a little, but found it was impossible. It's not that I _couldn't_ move, so much as there wasn't anything of me _to___move. The phantom body I was never entitled to had been taken away from me. I took a deep breath through the nose that wasn't there, embracing the dense darkness coating the lungs I didn't have, and relaxed into blackness.

Someone was prodding me. I screwed my eyes shut tighter, willing them to go away. My whole body felt too tired, so heavy I could fall asleep again and maybe never wake up. And then everything hit and I startled up into a seated position with a crack of every unused bone in my body. Because, I had a body. It felt like before. Not like way, way before, I knew I wasn't alive exactly, but the phantom figure I'd grown to live with was back, and I felt like me again. I glanced up, squinting against bright lights to make out the figure of the person above me.

"Violet?" I choked out, taking in her small, willowy frame and dusty-looking floral dress skating the air by my face. I wanted to press my cheek to her thigh and not let go of her until she let me come back to her, but I didn't, body still too stunned to work the way I wanted it to.

"Wow, the house is cruel," the voice wasn't Violet's at all. It was deep, a man's voice, and I scooted back and away from her instantly, realising this was some kind of trap. Violet hadn't forgiven me, and she probably never would. She'd told me to go away, after all, and then there had only been blackness, and drowning, and then…

"Where am I?" I demanded, voice coming out much smaller than I'd intended it to. My voice didn't sound like my voice.

"You're in the house. Duh. You can't leave."

"I know… that, but, where, exactly. I don't recognise this room." I glanced around, taking in the unnaturally bright ceiling light, the chipped blue walls. the tattered rug.

"Sure y-".

"Holy shit, this is Violet's room!"

"I guess so. I was hoping you'd recognise it, seeing as I certainly don't. The house really likes you. I mean, you thought I was Violet, right? That's a chick, I'm guessing, which sucks because I'm not a chick." The figure, I couldn't bring myself to call it Violet when it obviously wasn't, sat down across from me, legs in a careless crossed position. I could see its underwear and swallowed, looking away. This wasn't Violet.

"If you're not Violet then… who are you?" I glanced up, but it was gone. "Goddamnit!" I growled, getting to my feet and brushing off. I was so sick of her mind games, even if it wasn't Violet. It wasn't Violet. It wasn't Violet. I kept repeating that to myself but as I wandered around the room, taking in her scent, her stuff, it became harder and harder to believe myself. She looked like Violet, she dressed like Violet, she had Violet's no-nonsense, pissed off demeanour… is it so hard to believe this is just another way to punish me for what I'd done? She'd said I would have to pay for what I did, maybe this was how I was going to pay. Through confusion, and drowning, and mind games. I would take it all, if it meant I could spend more time with her.

"I'm guessing you screwed up with her, huh." I spun at the voice and there she was again. Violet, but not quite.

"More than you can imagine."

"I think I have a pretty good idea." She gave me a funny look, all eyebrows, and nothing I'd ever seen her face do before. It was weird.

"Who are you, then, really. You're not Violet, that's for sure." It smirked, winking.

"You're a smart boy, Tate. You figured it out way quicker than I did. Took me a year to stop following the four seven year old around."

"What?" I was feeling utterly bewildered by this new game.

"Well, a year or there abouts. There really isn't a time concept in the house."

"There is if you keep count. That's what calendars are for, idiot."

"Maybe that's what it was like before, when you lived in the house, sure."

"I don't… I am living in the house," I trailed off, quiet, unsure at the direction this game was going.

"No, no, you're not in the house so much now as you are the house. She told you to go away, Violet, I'm guessing?" I just nodded dumbly, allowing her to take over and play out the scenario she wanted. "Well, haven't you ever wondered where the people go? When they get sent away, they can't just pop back up right away. The house takes them, sort of like a time out. Some people get stuck in time out longer than others, that's why I'm still here, and you'll probably be going back pretty soon." The voice was sadder at the end, there, and I wondered how she was doing it. I mean, being a ghost had plenty of spooky perks but as far as I'm aware vocal alteration wasn't one of them.

"I don't… understand. Who are you? Who sent you away?" Violet smirked, slinking down the wall to a seated position again.

"Get comfy, kid, this is a long one." I nodded, sitting back against the headboard on the bed from which I'd been barred. It felt dangerous in all the right ways.

"Are you wondering how I knew your name? You must be, if you know I'm not Violet. _You_ obviously don't know who _I _am." It raised a good point, so I nodded.

"You look like her, but you sound like a dude," I clarified, and she smirked again.

"Before you got pulled in here I _looked___like a dude too, thank you very much. I've been here since I was seven, you know."

"But… you've aged." I pointed out, as stupid as it sounded because it was obvious.

"Yeah, that's sort of the worst part about being stuck here, rather than out there. The ghosts that live here don't age, but they're just residents. We're the house, we age. You see?" I shook my head, no, and it sighed.

"Think about it. If no living person moves in, what happens to the house?"

"It gets run down and rusty and the water and stuff stops working until someone moves in and fixes it up."

"Yes, yes, exactly. So if I was seven when I was pulled into the house's mainframe, and that was in 1984, how old am I now?" Holy shit, math. Math was not my thing in high school, and it is not my thing now.

"Urm, well, it's 2012, so…" She pursed her lips.

"Woah. I'm like, 28. Old." She shrugged and I frowned.

"Wait, I lived here in '84." She raised her eyebrows. "At least, no, I definitely did. I was like, six or seven at the time. My mother was getting drunk all the time and we were about to lose the house, but I was still here, I'm sure of it."

"Uh huh, clever kid, like I said. But how old were your siblings?"

I paused, because it was about to get dangerous. If this was Violet playing games, I couldn't mention too much. I could tell her about Beau and Addie, but that was it. That was as far as I could go. But if it was someone else… someone who was seven years old when they died in this house and was pulled in after being told to go away… and it all clicked into place.

"Michael?" It was a shot in the dark, and if the thing opposite me was Violet, she'd have no idea what I was talking about, so I wasn't really spilling my families' dark past. After all, if the thing responded to it, I was only calling it by its name.

"Hey brother," and in quite literally the blink of an eye, Violet was gone and a man sat before me. He was well built, with a strong jaw and cropped hair that curled a little. In frame, he's probably what I would have ended up looking like, if I wasn't frozen forever seventeen. Of course, he was still too pale, death white with too-frosty to be pretty blue eyes, and white hair, eyebrows, eyelashes. He was still different, even if we were twins.

"I never knew what happened to you," I whispered, unable to form speech anymore. The man before me stood up, crossing the room in a few quick strides and coming to sit opposite me on the bed.

"Mother sent me away. I was… unwell. You know as well as I do that you can't come out of that family without a scratch. No one ever has. Other than Constance, but I'm pretty sure she's evil." I laughed, the sound was hollow to my own ears. "You have to understand, Tate, that it wasn't about you. It was about me, and her. I…I loved you, but she made me resent you." I frowned.

"I don't understand…"

"You were my brother, my twin, and I never saw anything different between you and me. We just… were, and that was fine. But as we grew up, as we started to understand the things she'd mumble under her breath when she was drunk, I started to realise things. She never liked me, Tate. She loved you, the golden boy, but I was another of her 'failed' children. You were the perfect child, and she wanted me out of the way. She never said as much, but I knew it. I knew I would never compare to you, I couldn't compete, no way. And I was angry with you, for that. So I tried to kill you. God, I don't think I even really knew what I was doing, we were so young. But I put a pillow over your face one night and she caught me before you stopped breathing and I was sort of relieved, actually, that you hadn't died. That's when I realised you weren't the problem. I didn't want you to die, I wanted _her_ to pay for how she treated me, and Addie, and Beau." He paused, and we both took a moment to think about our other, unfortunate siblings.

"I understand," I mumbled, because I really did. I'd done bad things too, things I regretted, all because Constance had screwed me up bad enough to think I wasn't worth more than that.

"She ran a bath and held me under the water." I felt the blood drain from my face and my stomach plummet.

"She- she murdered you? She murdered Beau, too, later on." He shook his head in disgust.

"That woman is poisonous. I know that now. When I came back, I went straight for her, I was so ready to make her pay, but she was ready for me, too. She told me that you would never forgive me for trying to kill you, and that you hated me already, and that I was dangerous so there was 'no way in hell I was gunna come near her or her babies' and then she just said it, like it was nothing."

"Said what?" I asked, though I already knew what she'd said. The only two words that meant a thing around here.

"Go away," he whispered.

I closed my eyes and we sat in silence for a while. I didn't know what to say, or how to fix it.

"How come you're still here, then? Constance doesn't live here anymore, surely her dismissal of you should have cancelled out her command?"

"I thought so too, really, for a little while. But then I realised, it's not so much who you banish, but why you banish them that sticks. I'm here because Constance said you could never forgive me for what I tried to do to you. You were the only person in the world who truly cared about me, and I care about you. It's your forgiveness I need, Tate." He didn't ask for it, I noticed. He didn't feel like he deserved it, I guess, going by the look on his face.

"Michael." He looked up. "I forgive you. Hell, I've made some pretty stupid mistakes, too, that's why I'm here you know. I love you, you're my brother. We forgive the ones we love." He smiled, and I finally felt like I'd done something selfless and properly, truly right. For once.

"You… that means everything, Tate." He reached out and clasped my hand, and I clasped his right back, feeling a little piece of my fractured childhood mend itself into a memory I never had.


End file.
